In defense of my writing

what does personal mean?

what is private/intimate/personal but constructions taught to us, concepts placed in our brains by the overarching religion, social class, culture, language, and tradition in which we're raised?

"i thought your blog was your travel journal. you told people it was how they could keep up with you while you traveled the world."

and is it not?

if you don't want to hear about my memories, are uninterested in my spiritual "awakenings", are taken aback by my use of swear words.... don't read me.


this is my travel journal. it is what i'm thinking, doing, and being while i'm living in a country radically different from my own. it is my place to write whatever i want to write, feel whatever i want to feel, and experiment with words.

whoever said that everything i wrote was true, anyway? what if i'm merely trying to be a storyteller?

i've already censored myself in many of these posts. i have a problem with that, but i'd probably have more of one if readers of this blog read the me, uncensored. so i changed myself, in some places.

if you know me well at all, you know that i'm not only going to give you rosey postings about visiting monuments and eating fabulous meals.

because, in all truth, i'm living in a muslim country, i get yelled at and treated like a prostitute by men on the street, i'm struggling to speak at least three languages a day - sometime four in one conversation, i'm twenty years old and i have things i want to say, i don't judge people for what they think and i wish that others wouldn't judge me for what i am - that they would just love me.

so, don't expect this blog to be postcard after postcard.

i don't do postcards.

i love you.