I've been playing around with an autobiography of my childhood. I wrote it in a fit of passion, feeling that it was important. That was forty years ago. It doesn't seem so important now. More of a curiosity.
Its been hanging around my desk like an old dish rag. Like old furniture -- should I throw it out? Is it of any use? Shall I just play with it! Yes, to play with it seems best.
I have no big purpose in working on it now, other than play, and simple curiosity. A curiosity to look back on my childhood. To look for clues as to what made me such a seeker after truth. A curiosity as to whether it would be entertaining to others to read.
Making it public on a blog just seems like more fun. Will it interest anyone? Do they care that it is full of typos? Will readers care enough to point them out? Perhaps I will get some good suggestions on how to improve it.
Putting it out on a blog doesn't seem very personal. Is it really my story anyhow? Is the story about me? Or, is it just a story -- a story of a body mind, privy to this particular appearance?
The feeling here is that it is just a story. It is not my story, because I know I am not a body, nor a particular mind. It's just that awareness is here, and knows this story.
The blog is called "heart of darkness revisited." Here: http://heartofdarknessrevisited.blogspot.com. In blog form I can get comments, a plus, but the book is backwards, as the latest chapter is up front. Oh, well, readers will figure that out. Being anal, and wanting chapters in order, I also put them on a google site as well, http://sites.google.com/site/surkwilu. But the site doesn't take comments, as far as i can tell, so if you have any, leave them on the blog. Enjoy!