2000-10-24 - 01:15:28
Ahh... Energy+
Yes, I am toying with my layout. Good of you to notice. (er, and if you didn't... ah... ask if you can re-roll that perception check buddy. 'Cause I'm thinking you didn't make the last one.)
I'm not in quite the... ah... exceedingly wound-up-ish type mood I was in when I first got home tonight. Probably starting to calm down a little bit. I was all hyperish for a little while earlier. I blame Dave. *nods* And for his part, he was willing to be blamed (actually, I think he's the one who suggested it was his fault I was getting wound up). Anyway, so I was all weirdly hypery and stuff. *nods* Mmmmkay, yeah.
I'm loosing ground, I think. It feels like I'm loosing friends or something. Maybe it's that I'm not as close to some of them as I'd like to be. Maybe it's the lack of downtime with anybody but a few. Maybe I'm slowly melting back into someone I used to be. *shudder* That's not a happy thought on a lot of counts. It... well, no it didn't take that much in the way of effort to be what I am now (which may be the problem), but it did take a lot of hell under certain circumstances. Eh, and maybe in my own little quiet, "good kid" way I made a smidge or two of hell on my own. I don't know.
I was talking about something and I got distracted. What was it? Oh, loosing ground. It bothers me. And part of me doesn't know why. I mean, I know why. People are (in spite of my sometime best efforts to proove the contrary) important to me. I need them. Or rather, I need people who I like, can count on, and can be at least moderately comfortable around. And so it botheres me to think I'm "loosing" ground in one of those friendships. In any of them.
It's all so fucking mutable, you know? I guess what brought me to this tangent anyway is the fact that I saw my old best friend Cait tonight. Well, sort of. I was in the little lot next to Harshman (the one right along Mercer), and redistributing some stuff between bags so I could take what I needed up to Talcott's Changeling game. Who should I see walking along the sidewalk but Cait and Brad. Now, I don't know what bothered me more about this. The fact that my first thought was "You don't see me... don't see me," or the fact that she looked right at me and didn't stop or wave or anything. What part should hurt more? The fact that the person who was my best (and at points, I think only) friend from the beginning of 6th Grade until halfway through my Freshman year of College doesn't even aknowledge my existance? Or the fact that I've managed to be/get in a place where I hoped for that samesaid occurance?
It terrifies me, you know? On one level, I know that as the person I am now (and actually the person I was when she and I ceased to be such close friends) and she have so extrodinarily little in common. So it makes sense that we should not be so close of friends anymore. But still. For so long she was the one friend I trusted.
Now I've lost the trust I had for a lot more people and things. And I have three friends who I do trust. And it scares me to death that someday in the "future" I'll be walking along somewhere, in some mall or at some festival or something. And I'll somehow have been brought to a point where from fear of being "upset" by a reminder of what had been lost, I'll see one of those I now trust, and be in a place where I can actually think "You don't see me... don't see me..." and they'll look right at me, and not stop to talk, or wave, or smile, or in any admit that I exist. And that'll... well, it'll hurt more then this thing with Cait did. Because after that, it was harder to trust, so the trust I still have has become more precious to me.
Pfft. Maybe I shouldn't post this. As much as it always worries me that they don't understand how much I really care for them, on the other hand, there's still a part of me that's scared to let them know how much they mean to me. Probably it's that same little core of scared girl hiding under a bed, who's afraid of everything. But still I have this... apprehension. It's something I'm trying to work on.
Eh, tomorrow I write. Well, I have to do the dishes in the morning, because I got too wrapped up in what I was doing this afternoon to take care of 'em. (I hadda pick sounds to put on my laptop!) but once I've done that, I'm headed off into... ah... well, I'm not really sure where I'm going yet. If the weather is good, I may hit one of two "wildlife" type areas that I'm fond of. If the weather is not quite so good it's to the Sandusky Mall, or to the Toledo Museum of Art. I need to watch/be in nature, or to watch people. Or to be in a place that I know from experience inspires me a great deal.
Ahh... I'm scared. I'm scared that I'm gonna get out there tomorrow, and I'm going to have an actual bout of writer's block. Not this silly "nothing I write is good enough" thing I get all the time, but an actual moment streatching out before me, and finding myself unable to write so much as a singe word. To type even a letter into the electronic "whitespace" sitting before me as a taunt to my lack of ability. Maybe I should do laundry too. And... ah... I know the tub could use a scrub. I have been meaning to clean my room...
Maybe I should take along one of my spare whistle-pops. I can practice Johnny Saucep'n. That will at least distract me from the writing I will be there to do, but possibly unable to do.
You'd think, (I think,) that becoming serious about something would make it easior. I don't know if that's still true of other things or not. But I know that it doesn't seem to be true of writing.
I'll have to remember to take along a regular spiral notebook too. Sometimes I need to feel the paper if I'm on a poetry tangent. Although my aim is prose. I haven't written any that went beyond useless exposition in a long time. I wish it was a better current market for poetry in this country. Of course, if that were the case, I'm sure I'd find myself suddenly incapabale of even the doggeral that passes for my better work now-a-days. *sigh* My drafts are so horrible. Sometimes I think the "polished" results are lacklustre at absolute best.
I should stop labeling myself an "unemployed writer." It's an inaccuarate label. I should call myself an "Unemployed hack." So much more truthful.
*L* Ok, OK. Admit it with me folks. There is little weirder then something in the scene that makes you think two intrinsically creepy folks almost seem normal. Trust me.
And on that note of: "yes, I do seem almost bipolar at times," I should probably go try to sleep. If for no other reason then that I'm going to be trying to be up at a "reasonable" hour tomorrow, so I can go be an untalented hack. Heh. I'll either feel better or worse after my little "field trip" tomorrow. Eh. Should be interesting, either way.
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Murrrrrrffff? - 2005-01-04
A Late Review - 2004-09-12
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Intermission - 2004-08-07
Rambling or something. - 2004-07-31
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