i'm still here. i tell myself excuses about all of my failings pretty much constantly; it is sometimes exhausting to live your life in this way.
excuses are not necessarily untruths, i.e. "sometimes the keyboard keys on this laptop stick and it makes writing anything suck"; "nobody but some close friends and random non-friends (who could be friends if you tried) and potentially stalking coworkers and family members even look over here at this public typing space"
an aside: hello audience, i need you, even if you are just the you out there alone right now and skimming and curious and kind of apathetic. my whole life the (non-family) relationships i've had have been characterized by something that i always felt was a "perverse closeness." i do not know how to connect in any other, more superficial, more easy-breezy way.
throughout childhood and adolescence my friendships were a string of intense female partnerships i entered into -- kate, meghan, courtney, andrea, anna, jess, charlotte, erin. each of these girls in turn would show interest and attention toward me and i would respond with cultish devotion, absorbing whatever parts of them that i could define and offering them my magic in return.
i wrote this song about the girl you hate whom i now also hate.i also hacked her email account.i will give you the best hand massage.i made up this secret written language for us to pass notes in.i don't know what these girls/friendships have to do with anything but i remembered and am discussing. i should like to return to a free-streaming daily mundane wordytime.
the girls would eventually tire or feel smothered upon realizing that they were my only friend or i don't know. in high school they were replaced by a string of equally intense boyfriends;
i regret that i am rarely able to experience humans for real in any other way (that is not shaded by my faux-but-adept social grace and anxiety). no matter how many people i am around, if i can't get this undefinable and rare soul-probe sunk into a kindred i am lost. i don't know how i am so fucking strong but require a one to hold my hand in order to accomplish basic things without monumental effort. i feel cursedly skilled like a fable.
oh, except on here,
that is what i was getting to. i can get at you folks on here, from inside of me, and it is Important.
These Dark Times since the fall-back have made me shine onyx-like, glassy; i feel ready to be braver
my yoga instructor said "be open to change, let this breath change you" but i am not so good at
lettingPRAGMATISM
this concept i am lately obsessed with
and consider myself defined by
(but it might be a cop-out)
it turns out i do have a lot to say (however narcissistic), i did not anticipate this but welcome it