I feel a twinge of regret this evening, when I look back on my day and realize I’d invaded someone’s privacy. Honestly, it may not even be that big of a deal to the person in question, for I told no one of his true privacy, and only told my best friend of the so-called “secret” because she happened to be there that afternoon.

I know I’m talking in circles, but the internet is no longer safe.

If anyone from my school were to read my blog, I don’t think I would mind so much. Now if they judged me, or used some information they found on my blog against me, I think we’d have a serious problem. I have not made this blog very private, and I don’t intend to — many people follow that concept. My ego might inflate a little because someone cared in any minute form what I wanted to write about, but not enough to overcome my everyday self consciousness, so we’re safe there.

Our school got released early today due to the wittle snowstorm that came blowing through — it wasn’t that big of a deal, and was seriously belitted by the ones that hit New York, but our school is southern, and they freak at the threat of ice on the roads. Plus I’m a senior — we love getting out of school, right? So I wasn’t worried. I did have to miss my new favorite class of the day though, Literature. We’re studying poetry for the next 6 weeks. Ah, perfection.

This person that I have been watching is not a normal teenager that has an assortment of myspaces/facebook/twitter’s, and doesn’t care at all what is exposed to the general public — he is very private, very personal, at least with this stuff. And I uncovered it (easily, I might add), in an attempt to understand him more in depth. And boy, do I.

But I refuse to allow myself to spread this nugget of information to another soul. He put trust in the internet to keep his secrets and spread his word, as do I with wordpress, so I am not going to be the one who betrays that trust to my “friends”. Nope, sorry, not mine to disclose.

It’s not like he had the secrets to the universe hidden, okay? But something more precious. Something more dear to him and too special to give up to most of the people at school. In my own way, I’ve come to treasure that something as well — not nearly in the same way he does, but almost as one appreciates art or a finely tuned instrument. It’s not yours, but it’s so close to perfect (by being beautifully imperfect) that you want to protect it, and watch it grow.

Goodnight wordpress : )


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