(no subject)
Oh hi.
I got this working because I'm lonely and scared. I had a really bad encounter with someone and I'm suddenly afraid to leave my new apartment.
Its way late. or early. So I don't want to be a bother and try to wake someone up to prattle about inconssistant fears, however, fear is a wormy thing, especially when you allready feel unsure and vulnerable. So instead of sleeping I have neurotically forced myself to stay awake, and then in the end of my wakefullness, wrestled with live journal till it eventually decided to allow me to login.
I came to live journal because despite my general miserable pissing moaning I post here(oh so emo), I actually have a great deal of fond memories here. Like many people, when upset, I seek out the warmth of something I can recognize and cling to, like a limpit.
My life has changed alot. I'm not really going to go into that, because this journal has never been about my life, its been about my heart. And my mind, and my ramblings, and my complaining.
3 hours before I have to go to work. I haven't slept a wink.
How to update my beloved live journal friends(I did make efforts to read all of your public posts as much as possible) to my status.
No clue. I've changed alot, and we'll leave it at that. Some of these changes would surprise some of you little.
I'd like to speak a momment on the topic of creativity. The world cares little for people that are creative, or so it would seem despite what it says. Yet, still, there are innovators among us, and the capacity to create and form and mold and change exists within each of us.
Death exists in all things, but the death of an idea, a concept, a thought, is impossible. Prehapse the afterlife is in what we create for ourselves in our world. I've not left much on the world, but thats because of the afformentioned neorosis I possess about sharing my works. Prehapse in the end, this will be my final little gift to the zetageist. A rambling, poorly formated inconsistant string of thoughts and half sentances.
I'm going to probally lay some of my most hidden and deepest thoughts down in here, for the internet, and for you, specifically, the people that have chosen to read it, and me. I want to share myself with you as each of you have shared yourself with me, in some small way or another.
I'll do this when I'm not afraid someones going to do me bodily harm and I don't have to work in a few hours and haven't slept.
I got this working because I'm lonely and scared. I had a really bad encounter with someone and I'm suddenly afraid to leave my new apartment.
Its way late. or early. So I don't want to be a bother and try to wake someone up to prattle about inconssistant fears, however, fear is a wormy thing, especially when you allready feel unsure and vulnerable. So instead of sleeping I have neurotically forced myself to stay awake, and then in the end of my wakefullness, wrestled with live journal till it eventually decided to allow me to login.
I came to live journal because despite my general miserable pissing moaning I post here(oh so emo), I actually have a great deal of fond memories here. Like many people, when upset, I seek out the warmth of something I can recognize and cling to, like a limpit.
My life has changed alot. I'm not really going to go into that, because this journal has never been about my life, its been about my heart. And my mind, and my ramblings, and my complaining.
3 hours before I have to go to work. I haven't slept a wink.
How to update my beloved live journal friends(I did make efforts to read all of your public posts as much as possible) to my status.
No clue. I've changed alot, and we'll leave it at that. Some of these changes would surprise some of you little.
I'd like to speak a momment on the topic of creativity. The world cares little for people that are creative, or so it would seem despite what it says. Yet, still, there are innovators among us, and the capacity to create and form and mold and change exists within each of us.
Death exists in all things, but the death of an idea, a concept, a thought, is impossible. Prehapse the afterlife is in what we create for ourselves in our world. I've not left much on the world, but thats because of the afformentioned neorosis I possess about sharing my works. Prehapse in the end, this will be my final little gift to the zetageist. A rambling, poorly formated inconsistant string of thoughts and half sentances.
I'm going to probally lay some of my most hidden and deepest thoughts down in here, for the internet, and for you, specifically, the people that have chosen to read it, and me. I want to share myself with you as each of you have shared yourself with me, in some small way or another.
I'll do this when I'm not afraid someones going to do me bodily harm and I don't have to work in a few hours and haven't slept.