(no subject)
Jan. 19th, 2005 09:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omnia_mutanturhome sick or mostly unconscious.
i keep typed the same sort of paragraph, angry and dismayed and confused by things happening outside my actual sphere of influence, and deleting it over and over again, knowing it's not my place, that i'm just going to watch this happen, and not even that, really.
i'm not going to arisia for a lot of different reasons, and the only one really plaguing me anymore is my increasing social discomfort. i don't know how to play well with others, a lack only being highlighted by the fact that i'm completely comfortable around host and lilo, and it took me a little while to pinpoint what was weird about that, and it's only my complete unfamiliarity with not being on edge.
it's not so much that i hide it well, or at least i don't think i hide it, but that i've perfected a sort of fuck-the-world selfsufficiency that leaves me relatively okay with having a few very close friends. i try not to require reassurance or promises or loyalty, letting people come and go and take what they want, and leave when they want.
but i fell like i'm coming into a needier part of myself, and i'm not entirely comfortable with it. the major players, light and history and girlbiscuit (and spark and boisterous, with a little less temporal regularity) leave me no doubts, and the aforementioned new players are as notable as i said, triggering nothing in the way of social paranoia.
but the past few weeks, with people being busy at work, and people being unhappy guests, and my birthday, and being so very afraid of what's going to happen next in history's lovelife and houselife, how both of them will refocus his attentions to a place and a town i can't follow him to, realizing how much i sometimes miss oxygen and that perfect welcome i felt at the hillhouse, they all sit sort of solid in my gut. plans with girlbiscuit and media's invite made me realize how inert i am, how there's no place that i go, nowhere i'm invited, no more safe places but the one i've made myself. and i don't even know how to talk about it without sounding like i'm fishing for something, reassurance or invitations, and it's not it, and once again, i lay claim to every choice i've made, even if i didn't know i was making them. if i had to tell the world to go screw in order to be this at home in my life, my body, i'd do it all over again, and maybe social comfort is either the roadkill or the exploded tires i leave on the side of the road, and all i'm doing now is looking in the rearview to determine the cause of the thumping, or maybe it's all just selfindulgent whining.
i keep typed the same sort of paragraph, angry and dismayed and confused by things happening outside my actual sphere of influence, and deleting it over and over again, knowing it's not my place, that i'm just going to watch this happen, and not even that, really.
i'm not going to arisia for a lot of different reasons, and the only one really plaguing me anymore is my increasing social discomfort. i don't know how to play well with others, a lack only being highlighted by the fact that i'm completely comfortable around host and lilo, and it took me a little while to pinpoint what was weird about that, and it's only my complete unfamiliarity with not being on edge.
it's not so much that i hide it well, or at least i don't think i hide it, but that i've perfected a sort of fuck-the-world selfsufficiency that leaves me relatively okay with having a few very close friends. i try not to require reassurance or promises or loyalty, letting people come and go and take what they want, and leave when they want.
but i fell like i'm coming into a needier part of myself, and i'm not entirely comfortable with it. the major players, light and history and girlbiscuit (and spark and boisterous, with a little less temporal regularity) leave me no doubts, and the aforementioned new players are as notable as i said, triggering nothing in the way of social paranoia.
but the past few weeks, with people being busy at work, and people being unhappy guests, and my birthday, and being so very afraid of what's going to happen next in history's lovelife and houselife, how both of them will refocus his attentions to a place and a town i can't follow him to, realizing how much i sometimes miss oxygen and that perfect welcome i felt at the hillhouse, they all sit sort of solid in my gut. plans with girlbiscuit and media's invite made me realize how inert i am, how there's no place that i go, nowhere i'm invited, no more safe places but the one i've made myself. and i don't even know how to talk about it without sounding like i'm fishing for something, reassurance or invitations, and it's not it, and once again, i lay claim to every choice i've made, even if i didn't know i was making them. if i had to tell the world to go screw in order to be this at home in my life, my body, i'd do it all over again, and maybe social comfort is either the roadkill or the exploded tires i leave on the side of the road, and all i'm doing now is looking in the rearview to determine the cause of the thumping, or maybe it's all just selfindulgent whining.
