Out! Out! Out!

I find myself imposing censure on my writing out here in the free, cyberworld... because I know that close friends and family have access.
This sucks.
Writing should be limitless, an exercise of all your muscles without worries of how those motions look. I've started tensing up, watching the faces of those who read. So I stand still, mistyping, cringing away from this stage I've built. Too many eyes, too many faces, too many individual thought spaces.
Beware, it may just spill over very soon. Prepare.