Warts and all...?

Doesn't feel quite to strange to log on and blog today. Like most things I guess - the first time is the hardest. First kiss for example. First untruth. Or - so they say - the first time you kill something - or someone. Hmm...

So what was it I read yesterday that made me want to embark on this journey then? Something on a friend's blog that referenced the letter that Saint Paul wrote to an early church in Rome around 2000 years ago actually. Saint Paul seemed to sum up the human condition rather neatly when he exclaimed "what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do..."

I've been journalling a lot these past few days. Enforced rest - doctor's orders following an asthma attack. The journal has been an interesting bedside companion - refusing to be lied to, throwing up truths hitherto buried or unrecognised, demanding attention and at the same time desperate not to be seen by anyone but the author. Password protected, encrypted, hidden from view - and yet prompting this sudden oh so very public posting.

So what is a blog then? If it differs so much from a journal in the truth that it holds? If it is simply the polished public face of our life, conveniently omitting details such as those difficult firsts? If it contains only details of what we want to do but not what we do or what we hate but do anyway?

Is this modern preoccupation with blogging allowing us to create for ourselves a sanitised public persona, whilst we persuade ourselves we're transparent and truthful? Perhaps it's time to start looking for some warts...