If I could give you any advice, filling meta-tags with your ex-fiance’s information is satisfying, but it does absolutely NOTHING for your SEO. Seriously. No one is ‘hilarious’ when they are brokenhearted and bitter. They’re just sad.
I spent most my evening typing expletives into my computer. It’s not a suddenly new past-time, nor is it my way of coping with recent, crappy news, but it is a reminder of WHO I used to be.
I was angry. For a long time. I was angry at ex-boyfriends, at failed friendships, at jobs and at life. I was angry at cancer and my body’s inability to fight for the GOOD inside me. I was angry, simply… to be angry. See? I was angry.
And sometimes, even though people from all walks of my life will tell you that I am not those words I typed, I made strange words, my brand. It happened mostly when it was 2am and I was alone and scared and resentful; I often came to my keyboard to battle with words. Some people do their largest amount of growing from 8-18. Mine was 18-28. I literally grew up and grew out of cursing to the world just in time to see the window to my success. I read through entries, (hundreds in total,) some I deleted and some I merely changed the words. The tone was the same, with longing and fear and pain. If I would have known then WHO I am now, I would have never wrote such brilliance in anger.
I didn’t expect it: the tears. They came down my cheeks in a rush as I read through and through who I used to be. You know what GirlmeetsGeek should have really been called? “I am a hot mess.” That would have been one helluva title for 2003-2009. And it might have captured the wrong reader base. I didn’t expect erasing swear words to be difficult. Like this… seriously? I remember typing this on the couch and wondering, “How on earth did this all happen?” In fact, I remember being angrier and sadder about a breakup with someone than actually having cancer. I remember being REALLY inappropriate.
It’s like with every, little, nasty, swearword I erase… I take away the anger of the moment so all that’s left is… wisdom. Except for the one where my daycare lady stole my purse and forged about 10 checks. Those words were deserved, but deleted. (I’m not sure she’s ever recovered from that post.) But that’s it, isn’t it? We’re lions when we swear. We imagine our roars are frightening and malignant. When we look back, those ‘roars’ were merely sputtered coughs, as benign as they come.
Well, I left a few up. Sometimes, a well-written curse can really say exactly what I’m feeling.