stopgap
LiveJournal plans to start purging inactive accounts in August. I don't know, frankly, if I need to preserve this; for all Scott's insistence that I am a Capital-W-Writer and should do something about it, lately I feel more inclined toward out-loud rambling and ranting than in actual pen-to-paper, fingers-to-keyboard writing. Writing is, frankly, a little too introspective and a little too easy to edit; very often I am much meaner in print than I would be in person, because I've allowed myself time to hone the insults, but usually just getting it all down on paper is catharsis enough and I try--with increasing success--not to actually pick fights in which my vocabulary functions as a weapon.
This, of course, is all prelude to me feeling tremendously destructive of late. Destructive really is the best word for it--I am not angry, I am not disappointed, I am not anxious. I am all of those things, plus vengeance and impatience and while the rational part of me knows that blowing something up, or (deviled) egging a car, or even sending cruel emails will not really accomplish much, the idle part of my subconscious keeps thinking up cruel and petty ways to exact revenge and inflict unpleasantness. I very carefully admitted as much to Jerry, who stopped in the middle of one of his rants about why everyone but the two of us was a total moron, and he gave me a measured look, as if to say that he was glad I wasn't feeling destructive towards him.
And there we go again. If only I could do something productive with all this energy--I imagine this is why people exercise. Or drink. Instead I pull weeds very enthusiastically, and cook very enthusiastically, and mope until I've given myself a headache.
Nonetheless, here I am, with dirt under my fingernails and ratatouille still on the stove and headache intact. I won't succumb to such self-pity in my other journals, but I will be posting to them, if only to evade LiveJournal's purge. I'm going to get very good at upholding responsibility, I think, and there's no sense at all in letting these slip away if I can help it.
This, of course, is all prelude to me feeling tremendously destructive of late. Destructive really is the best word for it--I am not angry, I am not disappointed, I am not anxious. I am all of those things, plus vengeance and impatience and while the rational part of me knows that blowing something up, or (deviled) egging a car, or even sending cruel emails will not really accomplish much, the idle part of my subconscious keeps thinking up cruel and petty ways to exact revenge and inflict unpleasantness. I very carefully admitted as much to Jerry, who stopped in the middle of one of his rants about why everyone but the two of us was a total moron, and he gave me a measured look, as if to say that he was glad I wasn't feeling destructive towards him.
And there we go again. If only I could do something productive with all this energy--I imagine this is why people exercise. Or drink. Instead I pull weeds very enthusiastically, and cook very enthusiastically, and mope until I've given myself a headache.
Nonetheless, here I am, with dirt under my fingernails and ratatouille still on the stove and headache intact. I won't succumb to such self-pity in my other journals, but I will be posting to them, if only to evade LiveJournal's purge. I'm going to get very good at upholding responsibility, I think, and there's no sense at all in letting these slip away if I can help it.