i have been writing. and reading. reading diaries. reading letters. reading journals. i prefer to read the unexpurgated versions of all of the above. i don’t like reading writings that have been cleaned up and made “appropriate” for the general public. my take on it is: if you don’t want to read about someone’s sordid private life… don’t! we all have the choice not to make that investment, after all.
i remember when vaslav nijinsky’s diary was first released… the diary of a man who had lost his senses. except. his writings had been cleaned up. scrubbed of all the madness. and oh, how the words glowed with perfection! then, after a spell, the publishers got their wits about them and released the original, uncut version. a masterpiece!
why would anyone take the liberty of censoring the words… the life… the essence… of another? i find it ridiculous when adults try to protect other adults… or children, for that matter. no one can protect anyone from the truth… from reality. even children will seek out their own truths, and they will read whatever they hunger to read… secretly.
we all seek the learning experiences we need in order to grow in the way we need to grow… and be. we all find what we’re seeking… somewhere.
it all begins with desire… uninterrupted… unfiltered.
and nothing is more desired… more uninterrupted… than what is forbidden.
nothing.
nothing.
