Blog as diary feed

I've received criticism concerning what I post on my blog for years. Too personal, too self-indulgent, too 'emo.' For about a year, I have had the rss feed to my Notes on facebook.com. This has served to expand the exposure I receive as well as the commentary about why I should censor what I write given the diversity my audience represents.
The main criticism being the Head Case Factor. That women, as potential sex partners (as if that is ever an appropriate reason to self-edit) will read what I write and assign me the dating equivalent of a scarlet letter. That my self-indulgent, 'emo scribbling would be reason enough to take me out of the running. Last time I checked, I was not up for public office, nor am I applying for security clearance. And it is no secret that I am nowhere near 'most eligible bachelor' status. In fact, I am probably considerably closer to the least eligible end of the spectrum on the 'who's counting' list.
I can muster about one and a half rats' asses when pressed to share my concern. Hypocritically speaking, I'm writing about it here; as much to clarify my intentions for myself as it is a manifesto for why I find comfort in this level of transparency.
There are myriad reasons I write on my blog. For instance, my creative method DEMANDS absolute truth. One of the most important beliefs I have about art I learned from something Picasso said, in effect, 'art is a lie that tells the truth.' An artist cannot afford to be dishonest with itself. There are far too many manipulations of truth in the 'real world', way too much feigned honesty, half-truths that create more deception than complete dishonesty does.
Additionally and for some time, I have wanted to make the leap from having a blog as well as a journal, to blogging it all. Everything I would write in my journal, I would publish here. Like an autobiography, maybe autoblography? I am moving in that direction, yet I still use my journal for petty ranting as well as detailing the basic details of events, experiences, banality I find more boring than juicy.
It has changed since I was with J. I was less revealing about all things Nation of Two. To protect the sanctity of our 'ness' as well as to avoid the potentially unwanted advice I may have gotten about what a douchebag I was or how whipped I was for what I was willing to put up with between us. That could have been said for both of us, but before I digress to the point of being accused of tangentitis, I'll stop. Suffice it to say, I will censor what I write for the sake of a lover or family member's feelings. And, I resent that.
And the most important reason is related to my understanding of the Human Condition. In essence, I cannot know the answer to the big Why? yet I can detail the where, when, how parts of the journey. I am here. I have thoughts about what that means but the Truth is unknowable. I will die. When I do, all that will be left is my creative output. Better that it be as much a reflection of truth as possible. I believe a corollary between truth and longevity exists. The more courage I exhibit in maintaining truth, the greater the likelihood that it may help someone, may provide comfort, may incite insight. And in doing so, become alive to live separate from my life, alongside it while I am alive, and hopefully long after I no longer am.