Damnit. I can't help it. I've been browsing LJs for an hour now. Sheet. I'll admit, I'm a voyeur. (No, I don't get myself off watching someone else. You're gross.)
Seriously, there's this certain thrill with reading someone else's life. It's like watching a biography— although the author/director has complete control of what you see in his/her life. Of course, this isn't the Truman Show, wherein the protagonist is totally unaware of the viewer. Hell, most likely the protagonist is effin' aware of who's looking.
Still, it's like you're sharing your life with strangers. Hmm.
Isn't it scary that people know what you're doing in your life? Isn't it terrifying to find your thoughts, your essence being spread all over the planet (or at least over cyberspace)?
Of course, that's me being paranoid.
Back to your regularly scheduled program. Please.
Mental note: Devote an entry or two to this. I'm serious.
Previously: Minor adjustments