The Internet is like my city’s streets, full of people. Some of them are my friends, some are acquaintances, some complete unknowns. I can have different conversations with them. Simple courtesies, share what’s happening around me, at my workplace, my home, my neighborhood, or talking about more intimate things, depending who they are.
This is what I would not post in the Internet: My intimate life and my family’s and friend’s intimate life. I would not betray confidences as I expect others to don’t betray my confidences. I’m not a secretive person, but I’m a private person. And private things are for real life not for virtual life, because virtual life is all but private. Recent news are talking about this very clearly.
I don’t care about posting now and then some of my memories as I would tell stories to a friend or write them in a book, selecting them and taking some distance. But I would not post a stories or thoughts I would talk only to a friend or only to a family member or keep it to myself. When I want to write about them, there is right, I have a pencil and a paper. Old-fashion, but safe. If I don’t take note, they will die with my memory, they don’t will be aired on the web who knows where, read by who knows whom.
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