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    Thursday, February 21, 2008     10:55 AM

I feel like I'm turning into a cliche, one of those people I used to make fun of who always complained of being cold. In fact, I think I wrote about that a few years ago. Now, all I'm longing for is spring, hours of sunlight, and warmth. I feel like I'm in some kiI feel like I'm turning into a cliché, one of those people I used to make fun of who always complained of being cold. In fact, I think I wrote about that a few years ago. Now, all I'm longing for is spring, hours of sunlight, and warmth. I feel like I'm in some kind of cold induced mind fog these days, where I can't articulate correctly without quite a bit of effort. In an attempt to lift this fog, I should probably be writing more, and clear some of the cobwebs. Asking a question that has nothing to do with the question I really want to ask is usually not my style.

With that, please indulge my amour propre at the present moment. Clearly, I did not have much self worth years ago, even though I was very good at faking the bravado. So I've been thinking lately about where I am now compared to five, and ten years ago, and what that means for my writing. I was looking back on some old journals and a line stuck out for me that I wrote in 1998, "I feel like I'm trapped in a body I despise," which makes me sad for my former self, but I know going through all that is why I am who I am today.

Ten years ago, the only way I thought I could really meet anyone and have a chance of making friends was through the Internet. It's what I was used to, growing up with BBSes, and it's how I thought people could get a chance to know me without seeing what I looked like, because I thought people wouldn't give me the time of day if they met me in person first. I guess I didn't give myself very much credit.

Then, I started going to the goth clubs because that was the natural progression for me, in a way, feeling that people in a "generally unaccepted" subculture would be more open to getting to know me. this was true for a time, and I made some good friends, but the drama of that scene, for me, combined with a general boredom from hearing the same songs and doing the same thing with the same small group of people got to be a bit much for me. I had some great times there, though I think it did make me realize that there will be unaccepting and accepting people in any part of society.

It's ironic, though, because I'm still doing the same old, same old, just at a different place, but it hasn't gotten old for me yet. Somewhere along the line from when I stopped going out to the clubs and started just doing whatever sounded fun, karaoke, open mic nights, the theater, et cetera, I figured out how to be comfortable in my own skin. Suddenly I wasn't faking confidence anymore, I was really comfortable in my own skin and no longer afraid to put myself out there. I guess it was just a natural progression, part of the getting older, maturation process, because I certainly can't pinpoint any defining moment when it happened. I just one day realized it, along with the fact that I now had more friends that I'd made by meeting them in person than I ever thought would be possible even five years ago. (That's not to say I don't still think the Interwebs isn't a fine place to meet someone - the two closest people to me, I met that way.)

So this was a very long winded way of acknowledging to myself, and publicly, (because I know people love it when others go on and on about themselves.) that I'm finally in place within myself, where there's very little turmoil. I've got my angsty moments, but that's what they are, moments, and they pass. Hopefully everyone reaches this point of self acceptance at some point, but there were times when I never thought I would.

The other night, walking outside The Phoenix after trivia, a drunk guy asked if I was okay. It wasn't until the next night, hanging out with the same friends that it was pointed out he was probably asking me the question because of the way I walk. That thought had never even occurred to me, I just thought he was being a stupid drunk guy. But what's more telling is that it didn't occur to my other good friend who witnessed it. It's very telling that when you stop thinking about what really should have never mattered in your estimation of yourself, others don't think about it either. Instead, they focus on what really matters, the essence of you as a person.

I feel very egocentric having written all this, but it needed to be said as it's been on my mind for a while. Now, maybe I can focus on doing some actual creative and interesting writing.


Tori Amos, Piece by Piece
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In the Waiting Line - Zero Seven
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"It is time for me to walk the abyss. Time to reclaim my own. I must talk to the Morningstar. I do not have high hopes for the meeting."
-Dream, Sandman