May 16, 2009 16:42
i'm unsure what inspired me to plug in some password that i wasn't sure would work anyway, but it did, so i did, and now this line's been typed. here.
anyone i've ever allowed to know me knows while i'm not opposed to technology, i vastly prefer writing in my own journal. the feel of paper pages bound up by someone with a needle or somewhere in a factory, left blank for me, assuming no promises that what i bring to them will redeem their new appropriation. that's soothing. my natural propensity to my own hand writing, whether or not i like it, keeps me away from these keys for this purpose. when nothing drowns anything out. the clicks of keys just irritate me. the scraping of a pen, though, would be the greatest comfort if i knew that were true.
i've never been able to bare myself without apology, without later censoring, hiding, deleting. when i was little i wrote, a lot. i would finish a cardboard diary, the ones with the tiny universal key. i'd tear out every page, tear up and flush. there's more control in it. i rationalize it now that my pen was my vehicle, it entranced me long enough to let go, but the fetid words that fell from it became my oppressor. the fear of anyone hearing me, seeing me, anyone. while i wish i still had record of those thoughts, the happenings, i defend my younger self. she may have had promise.
so i am graduating college in... 22-16= 6 days. wish i could say more about that, but i can't. maybe later i'll find that ability. i won't hint at it. i wish i could impartialize my tone so that more were less apparent. it's not fear. i don't know what it is. i won't go there. no no no no no not yet.