(no subject)

Once again, I've been waging awkward war with myself about what I do or don't want to post. Not because I've got anything earthshaking going down, but pretty much because I don't, and yet I want to keep saying things. And I’m not entirely certain why I want to, why I’m more interested in this public-facing forum than I am in my own, private writing. It’s possible I think that shame betters me, and what I say is more interesting and possibly even more useful to me when it’s not wailing uncritically about not knowing what to do.

I had to break up with livejournal for a while there, because everything I said that went uncommented upon devastated me. Now, it’s nice to feel noticed, but it’s also not necessary (or so I tell myself). I’ll still feel a little slighted some days, but I’m beginning to understand that’s the nature of the internet, or possibly just another manifestation of the same stupid lesson about subjectivity that keeps punching me in the face.

That said, I feel out of my depth again, like I'm trying to find my way with new people without a single clue as to how to behave. And I don't know if I've forgotten how to read cues, if I never knew, or worst still, I once thought I could but I never really could. It was, I’ll admit, so much easier to form connections, however superficial, as a drunk, slutty goth than it is now.

Also, I kind of miss my bravado, no matter what source I attribute it to in hindsight.

And sometimes, I feel like I know the moves, and can make them, and no one but me knows they’re not backed by any sort of conviction. And sometimes, I stamp my feet and decide, and choose to act as though everyone who crosses my path thinks I’m adorable, but I mostly do that just to frustrate the hell out of people. (it worked particularly well at arisia meetings, and I’m trying to bring that attitude into work with me to deal with my awful coworkers.)

And this isn’t a pity party, this isn’t some oh, poor woebegone me. 94% of the time, even with whatever baggage I’m carrying, I know that I’ve got an awesome life, and even here, I state the things I appreciate over and over again, litanies to keep me true. In the grand scheme of things, I really do have the cake, I’m just trying to figure out how to get chocolate frosting rather than the scallops-and-barbed wire frosting.

(no subject)

Once again, I've been waging awkward war with myself about what I do or don't want to post. Not because I've got anything earthshaking going down, but pretty much because I don't, and yet I want to keep saying things. And I’m not entirely certain why I want to, why I’m more interested in this public-facing forum than I am in my own, private writing. It’s possible I think that shame betters me, and what I say is more interesting and possibly even more useful to me when it’s not wailing uncritically about not knowing what to do.

I had to break up with livejournal for a while there, because everything I said that went uncommented upon devastated me. Now, it’s nice to feel noticed, but it’s also not necessary (or so I tell myself). I’ll still feel a little slighted some days, but I’m beginning to understand that’s the nature of the internet, or possibly just another manifestation of the same stupid lesson about subjectivity that keeps punching me in the face.

That said, I feel out of my depth again, like I'm trying to find my way with new people without a single clue as to how to behave. And I don't know if I've forgotten how to read cues, if I never knew, or worst still, I once thought I could but I never really could. It was, I’ll admit, so much easier to form connections, however superficial, as a drunk, slutty goth than it is now.

Also, I kind of miss my bravado, no matter what source I attribute it to in hindsight.

And sometimes, I feel like I know the moves, and can make them, and no one but me knows they’re not backed by any sort of conviction. And sometimes, I stamp my feet and decide, and choose to act as though everyone who crosses my path thinks I’m adorable, but I mostly do that just to frustrate the hell out of people. (it worked particularly well at arisia meetings, and I’m trying to bring that attitude into work with me to deal with my awful coworkers.)

And this isn’t a pity party, this isn’t some oh, poor woebegone me. 94% of the time, even with whatever baggage I’m carrying, I know that I’ve got an awesome life, and even here, I state the things I appreciate over and over again, litanies to keep me true. In the grand scheme of things, I really do have the cake, I’m just trying to figure out how to get chocolate frosting rather than the scallops-and-barbed wire frosting.