sea changes, not to be confused with the at-times mediocre emo beck album of the same name
i haven't posted anything in at least two months, and i'm becoming kind of ambivalent about writing new things. i was never the type of person who likes anonymity, and in the last couple of years posting i've made a lot of friends who seem to be interested in my daily goings-on and, because of real-life friends reading my journals from time to time, they've occasionally seen the interior of my feelings and thoughts as written. i, proudly, wear my heart on my sleeve. i am writing, at this moment, for a reason that seems at once justified and also tragic: i don't know if i can write my thoughts the way i used to anymore. i was posting frequently until february, and seven months since the injury i just don't know if i can do it.
the great sea change in my journals was that initial experience when i went to the balkans in the summer of 2002; that -- more than any other experience -- lit my mind up, made me think outside the box. things i held dearly and treasured, i pushed away, made changes to my thoughts and ideas that still today have affected my career path and relationships. i regret to say that this is another major sea change: no longer can i deny that the brain injury -- the month i spent away from consciousness, and the six months of recovery -- severely affected my speech and my writing. i feel more real and more realistic, somewhat disaffected and dispassionate, and (as) always cynical. maybe i haven't changed but come back to square.
in a way: maybe it's time again for bullet points.
the great sea change in my journals was that initial experience when i went to the balkans in the summer of 2002; that -- more than any other experience -- lit my mind up, made me think outside the box. things i held dearly and treasured, i pushed away, made changes to my thoughts and ideas that still today have affected my career path and relationships. i regret to say that this is another major sea change: no longer can i deny that the brain injury -- the month i spent away from consciousness, and the six months of recovery -- severely affected my speech and my writing. i feel more real and more realistic, somewhat disaffected and dispassionate, and (as) always cynical. maybe i haven't changed but come back to square.
in a way: maybe it's time again for bullet points.