Identification.

I'm mortally afraid of forgetting things.
My memories are my most important asset.

I've never kept a steady journal, though, because I know enough not to leave records around where other people can find them.
My life to date is memorialized in random scraps of paper, pointedly obscure poetry, mini planners (one for each year of high school), typed pages folded into tiny squares, Phoenician substitution alphabets, and words scrawled into the second-to-last pages of notebooks.
I hope I never forget.

I can never decide what I really want to do with this blog.
You'll notice that I've been very careful with my identifying information so far.
I haven't decided whether or not to give this web address to my friends so they can make comments, or whether I'm better off keeping things like this to myself so I can have real freedom in what I say, knowing that no one can ever find out who I really am.
I'm stuck in limbo, not knowing whether to name the people I write about or continue being vague, just in case...
It'd be embarrassing to have someone innocently Google themselves and accidentally run across my soul.
I'm thinking about this because it's what I just did. I Googled a friend of mine, just for fun, and ran into a blog by a girl who graduated last year. I read the whole thing, though I've never actually known her, and felt psychologically sick because now I've eavesdropped on her deepest inner thoughts-- dissected her psyche without any semblance of permission.
I feel terrible, like I've just intruded on something secret that no one was ever supposed to see.

She never mentioned her name, but made the mistake of giving too much identifying information.
I can't decide whether or not I'll risk making the same choice.