Sometimes it's just that simple.

I forget that by the time I actually say things out loud, I've been thinking about them for long enough to have had several internalized conversations about it and just because it makes sense to me, doesn't mean the other person will have the faintest clue what I'm trying to say.

Today's question: Do you think people have varying thresholds of tolerance for emotional honesty?

Kinda like being out in the sun too long, or looking straight at it. I was whimpering and cringing at my fic earlier today, and pierydys came up with a brilliant perspective suggestion that led me to consider that it might in fact be me with the problem of forthright expressions of emotion, not the story being sappy. She made the eminently useful analogy of direct conversation between males being like talking straight ahead from two side-by-side, parallel chairs. Trying to get me to just say something is quite similar to that.

However, none of this explains why my writing becomes almost sword-edge blunt and has a tendency to spiral into the drippiest pits of emotional dreck. It's everything I despise and completely bizarre to crop up in the stuff I ought to want to be reading.

Watching some of that old puppy footage I mentioned getting in the mail a couple of weeks ago. Dude, we're debunking fanon stereotypes all over the place here. First of all, Lance was totally taken with Justin even in the beginning, none of that animosity writers love to insinuate on either end. Joey's always been a fab performer as well as a (surprisingly) mild-mannered gentleman offstage, while Justin was born the adorable ham you see before you today. But my *god* was he a little boy once upon a time.

It's so creepy that WinAmp knew just which song out of the nineteen on this CD I wanted to hear.