It is the perfect period to study and write, I think. In a quiet isolation where you're not quite alone. The hum of the air conditioning compressor, the chatter of people further down the corridor, the conversation of strangers sharing the same table.

But it is tempting to launch into a series of contemplations too, no? The silence is entrancing.

Just recalled a little something I came across yesterday, a blog address passed to me by a traumatised junior. It is, to be fair, a journal well-written, in language and in expression and in flow... Extremely explicit, yes, but then I have come to realise that sexual explicitness does not automatically negate literary merit, if you know how to tap into language in its beauty.

Perhaps the problem comes with knowing the person, whether directly or indirectly. Or, cruelly put, by the writer's physical being, one that perhaps might not live up to... to... expectations of... associations with the written imagery.

Painful fact. =(

But what really disturbed me was its accessibility to the people in her real life, students she teaches, young kids, children with a generally untainted world-view and an idealistic impression of the world in all its decency... not-- not-- your role model (is that not what an adult, a teacher, ought to be, perhaps?) engaging in... decadent acts.

Or are the technologically savvy children nowadays more... enlightened creatures than we were/ I was back then? more exposed to the world, more... knowledgeable?

Is it necessarily a bad thing, to know?

My junior declares herself deeply traumatised.

I push it aside as yet another piece of written text that an author is perfectly entitled to write, and readers are perfectly entitled to engage with or dismiss. So long as it isn't deliberately positioned to hurt another it is fine... right?

But...

But the kids! The horror! *groans* Am I being conservative in suggesting that perhaps there are still things that oughtn't be accessed when one is not yet of age? Especially in the form of explicit descriptions of the personal life of someone you know, someone that may perhaps hold the delicate responsibilities of nurturing young minds? *faintly nauseous*

Ouch.