Oct 12, 2006 14:19
I guess I go in spells: river spells and clammed shells.
Through all of this I'm continuing to find the right place on the wall, realizing that the search-and-success is all that remains of self identity.
Truthfully, I wish I was one of those people who had an extremely popular blog. I wish I had my own domain, with poppy accents and a tart tongue. But the reality of myself, I'm finding, is vastly different. I'm a private person and it's hard for me to be specific about my feelings or situations; my boyfriend of 4 1/2 months doesn't even know what I'm majoring in, yet I see him every day. It's hard to come to terms with the separation of reality and imagined self truths.
I would never get rid of my livejournal; I read my friend's entries every day and it's important for me to still have all of my past writing. I wish, however, that there was a service or way to copy all the writing from past entries an put it onto a word document. Is there? Anyway, I also enjoy having this platform to write prose. I write differently here than I do in my own journal, or even in my own prose/poetry. I've stopped caring how many friends I have or who reads this; mostly, this space has become mine: It's often quiet and empty but it's always here.