right. okay.
I notice I haven't posted a lot lately. and I realize why.
as a rule, I don't like posting when I'm high or drunk or anything. like, even though those times are when the thoughts jump around and appear more vividly. because I feel people will read it and judge. in fact, I know people will. I know. I just guess it's kinda weird. some of you I've known for years, be it in real life or from over the net. and when I met most of you, I was a straight-edge kinda guy. I guess I'm worried that people will think I'm way wacked out of my mind. I'm not.
just think of it as me with a touch of that social grace I used to lack. I'm growing into that whole 'godawfully smooth' aspiration. I'm not a horrible druggie that can't keep concious, I just like a more... tinted look at life. it keeps it original. I avoid becoming jaded by staring with such wonder at ordinary things.
anyway... to fuck with it. my journal. I can't let a fear override my need to chronicle feelings, thoughts, experiences. I remember when this journal was a regular thing that I know helped. people who can't handle it or me will unfriend me. that's just how it is, though. I don't take it personally, and practice it myself. mainly because I don't want to go through the lj drama bullshit of trying to avoid 'insulting' anyone by taking them off my friends list and hiding that by creating a friends group that doesn't include that person or groups of people.
I don't have any friends groups, because I feel it's silly to go through the extra steps to avoid seeing the entries of someone whose entries I don't want to see. if I want to see their stuff, they're a friend. you're a friend, if you're listed. I read all your entries. I don't comment a lot. mainly for the same reason that I've been avoiding posting a lot. but I read them. don't doubt.
everything I have been posting is true. I am happy here. I like it here. people here have seemed to warm to me quickly. I'm a sore thumb, but I don't feel like I'm out of place. I wasn't kidding when I said the weather helps. I can't help but smile when the snow starts falling. it's just so right.
all's good. all's well.
-
it's just weird to say that. to say what I really am doing. I'm living. I'm happy. but I'm also often on drugs. like now. like last night. like the night before that, you get the point. I'm not happy because of drugs, that's why I'm not worried about it too much. I'm happy because of all the reasons I say I am. I wish I had a camera. I wish I had a car. I wish I had a place. I wish well, to be honest, for intimacy. I have missed that.
don't mistake me. I mean intimacy on more then a fucking level. I'd much rather hold someone under my arm, lie with someone, sit down and smoke while staring at the sky together. in-jokes. discussion.
yanno... tolerance? the ultimate good feeling another human being can provide? "I enjoy your company enough to put your glaring weaknesses aside to spend time with you, as you do with myself and my weaknesses."
-
I miss that. it's not essential. but it nags sometimes. like that nag I get about my mom. about my sister. occasional enough to insure that I don't forget it. and just as with the remains of what my head considers to be my real family, I occasionally yearn to correct the problem. I can't help it. it's cyclical. I go about trying to fix one of those few glaring omissions from my life, and find it unfixable again... every time.
I've tried finding my mother so many times that to be honest, I've just about lost hope. I found another number that I was sure was it, tried it, disconnected. it's a goddamn huge fucking wall in my head, and I reallly don't like it.
my sister, god, I don't even know the conversations I've had with myself about her... practically to her. I cry. I apologize a lot. I think I apologize to her more then I should to the people that deserve it. I think I do.
so do I blame myself for her death? why do I apologize to her at all?
intimacy. at the same time I yearn for it, I am still non-aggressive when it comes to things like that. so, in effect, I'm creating the problem for myself. wonderful.
-
aside from those times when I drift off, yeah. I'm happy. I'm smiling. I'm appreciative.
I love life. I'm happy for the chance I have to experience a life. bad or good, this is all I've got. there's no reason for me to not be happy. I'll save depression and self-doubt for when I'm dead.
actually, to be perfectly honest, I think I'll be back. after I die. I need to explain my kooky religious beliefs sometime.
alright. I'm about tapped for one entry. faretheewell.
<3
-Kevin
*edit* from now on, I won't use *edit* tags. I will color changed or added text like so. I just think it's neater looking. *shrug*
as a rule, I don't like posting when I'm high or drunk or anything. like, even though those times are when the thoughts jump around and appear more vividly. because I feel people will read it and judge. in fact, I know people will. I know. I just guess it's kinda weird. some of you I've known for years, be it in real life or from over the net. and when I met most of you, I was a straight-edge kinda guy. I guess I'm worried that people will think I'm way wacked out of my mind. I'm not.
just think of it as me with a touch of that social grace I used to lack. I'm growing into that whole 'godawfully smooth' aspiration. I'm not a horrible druggie that can't keep concious, I just like a more... tinted look at life. it keeps it original. I avoid becoming jaded by staring with such wonder at ordinary things.
anyway... to fuck with it. my journal. I can't let a fear override my need to chronicle feelings, thoughts, experiences. I remember when this journal was a regular thing that I know helped. people who can't handle it or me will unfriend me. that's just how it is, though. I don't take it personally, and practice it myself. mainly because I don't want to go through the lj drama bullshit of trying to avoid 'insulting' anyone by taking them off my friends list and hiding that by creating a friends group that doesn't include that person or groups of people.
I don't have any friends groups, because I feel it's silly to go through the extra steps to avoid seeing the entries of someone whose entries I don't want to see. if I want to see their stuff, they're a friend. you're a friend, if you're listed. I read all your entries. I don't comment a lot. mainly for the same reason that I've been avoiding posting a lot. but I read them. don't doubt.
everything I have been posting is true. I am happy here. I like it here. people here have seemed to warm to me quickly. I'm a sore thumb, but I don't feel like I'm out of place. I wasn't kidding when I said the weather helps. I can't help but smile when the snow starts falling. it's just so right.
all's good. all's well.
-
it's just weird to say that. to say what I really am doing. I'm living. I'm happy. but I'm also often on drugs. like now. like last night. like the night before that, you get the point. I'm not happy because of drugs, that's why I'm not worried about it too much. I'm happy because of all the reasons I say I am. I wish I had a camera. I wish I had a car. I wish I had a place. I wish well, to be honest, for intimacy. I have missed that.
don't mistake me. I mean intimacy on more then a fucking level. I'd much rather hold someone under my arm, lie with someone, sit down and smoke while staring at the sky together. in-jokes. discussion.
yanno... tolerance? the ultimate good feeling another human being can provide? "I enjoy your company enough to put your glaring weaknesses aside to spend time with you, as you do with myself and my weaknesses."
-
I miss that. it's not essential. but it nags sometimes. like that nag I get about my mom. about my sister. occasional enough to insure that I don't forget it. and just as with the remains of what my head considers to be my real family, I occasionally yearn to correct the problem. I can't help it. it's cyclical. I go about trying to fix one of those few glaring omissions from my life, and find it unfixable again... every time.
I've tried finding my mother so many times that to be honest, I've just about lost hope. I found another number that I was sure was it, tried it, disconnected. it's a goddamn huge fucking wall in my head, and I reallly don't like it.
my sister, god, I don't even know the conversations I've had with myself about her... practically to her. I cry. I apologize a lot. I think I apologize to her more then I should to the people that deserve it. I think I do.
so do I blame myself for her death? why do I apologize to her at all?
intimacy. at the same time I yearn for it, I am still non-aggressive when it comes to things like that. so, in effect, I'm creating the problem for myself. wonderful.
-
aside from those times when I drift off, yeah. I'm happy. I'm smiling. I'm appreciative.
I love life. I'm happy for the chance I have to experience a life. bad or good, this is all I've got. there's no reason for me to not be happy. I'll save depression and self-doubt for when I'm dead.
actually, to be perfectly honest, I think I'll be back. after I die. I need to explain my kooky religious beliefs sometime.
alright. I'm about tapped for one entry. faretheewell.
<3
-Kevin
*edit* from now on, I won't use *edit* tags. I will color changed or added text like so. I just think it's neater looking. *shrug*