The Lost Masterpiece

I wrote a brilliant blog post last night….and then I deleted it.

It was beautiful.
And now it’s gone.

I didn’t delete it on accident, or because I’m an idiot, but because for a brief moment of clarity in the fog of anger that fueled the post, I listened to my better self…

Some people release their anger by hurling bone china, Tiffany lamps, and Sèvres vases at a wall…or person. (I’m such a weakling, I doubt I could even lift a Sèvres vase, much less chunk it with enough strength to cause it to shatter against the wainscoting.)

I, however, release my anger by writing impassioned texts, emails, essays – or in this case, blog posts – delineating the complete and utter idiocy, incompetence, or  self-conceitedness of whatever poor fool has had the misfortune to raise my wrath.

Like the Hulk, my passion makes me powerful, and these essays are usually stunning representations of the power of words. My anger is incredibly articulate, and writing is incredibly therapeutic.

(My sister is usually the recipient of these diatribes, and she finds them vastly entertaining. Somewhere, there is a Facebook message viciously arraigning the imbecilic workers that occupy our local courthouse. It’s quite a read.)

Last night’s post was no different. As the vitriol ran freely from my pen (or…keyboard), I corralled every last drop of the indignation that had been boiling in my veins all week, and poured it into that post. In my fury, I criticized; I condemned; I verbally castrated every asinine cretin who had dared to cross me.

(Image source: Marvel Comics)

(Image source: Marvel Comics)

It was a thing to behold.

Then, as my cursor hovered over the “Publish” button, a small voice of sanity cut through the haze: “Never write anything you don’t want the whole world to read…”

I paused.

It was a motif that had guided much of my life. Never write anything you don’t want the whole world to read. Never say anything you don’t want the whole world to hear.

Since my blog has the (laughable) potential of reaching the actual whole world – or at least that part of the word that has internet capability – those words took on a new sobering layer.

Did I really want the entire world to be privy to my petty dissatisfactions? Was I really so angry that I was willing to abandon all shreds of loyalty and open the objects of my irritation to public abuse? Am I really so small-minded that I assume the uncensored airing of my griefs will bring me some sort of…what?…superiority?

As I struggled with my lamentably overactive conscience, the Hulk melted away and I was left just…me…small and exhausted after the storm had passed. The issues that had, just moments before, fueled my ire, now seemed immaterial and irrelevant.

I took one last, longing look at the masterpiece I had crafted…and deleted it.


8 thoughts on “The Lost Masterpiece

  1. I’m glad you didn’t delete this one. Wise words for any blogger or social media user to take to heart. But aren’t you glad you at least got that all out of your system. Writing is important even if never shared.

  2. Writing is so therapeutic…I have trouble with this too…often my frustrations come out in my glaringly honest posts. But, on the flip side, sometimes it’s just what someone needs to know that they are not alone in their frustration. So sometimes it turns out okay. I think hitting “publish” is one of the scariest things I do on a regular basis.

    • I have no problem sharing frustrations. (See my “Rants” tag.) However, I think we should all think twice before we unveil to the world at large the issues we have with few and specific people. Since many that read my blog are people that I see every day, they would probably be able to “read between the rant” and know who I was railing against. Ergo, the delete on that particular post.
      {Funny Fact: “Ergo” is one of my favorite words.} 🙂

  3. Pingback: Happy Birthday to my Blog | Tongue In Chic

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