(no subject)
(posted after i couldn't originally)
My IP address has been temporarily banned.
The one time i feel like writing, and capturing things down into my long, lost, beloved LiveJournal, and I lock myself out by guessing the password wrong too many times in a row.
The irony is thick here.
All I wanted was to have a few moments, ones that maybe wouldn’t be completely lost in time, and I knew my LJ was the place for that.
And then, that place, for the first time that I can ever remember, was not simply an open door.
Instead, holy cow, I got bounced out of my own club!
I don’t have much to say, I just… miss….
This.
I wish I had a thing to say. I wish I still had those young brilliant wandering thoughts, thoughts that I thought kept company with the best but alas…
Here I am now.
I”m trying so hard. This is what I want to do, but it’s like a dance, and when it comes to remembering the moves there’s a block. What used to once be fluid has turned into disconnected and awkward.
I feel like I used to know me more.
I got lost. I am lost.
That’s ok to say, I think. I think a lot of us are, but we’re afraid of admitting it.
But, if you don’t admit it, even just a little, do you have any hope of ever fully overcoming it?
“Overcoming it.”
Jesus.
Is there such a thing?
Most of the time, you look in someone’s eyes and you can see it. You can in the back of their stare that they’re floating a bit out there, kind of uncertain and unadmittingly aware that they have no idea either.
Oh that sentence, dear lord. That’s an editing problem for later.
I feel like living is just naturally being a little bit lost. This world is one hell of a matrix, and it’s easy to stumble and get confused.
Even if, on occasion it makes sense for a while, like happiness, it never lasts.
The world is unpredictable and surreal. Even the most mundane has undertones of madness.
Unfortunately, it’s mostly predictable and mundane.
The girl who used to write would now interject an anecdote about an extraordinary experience, but old, broken hack writer me has nothing more to offer than a sigh.
The broken dance, turned awkward fumble. And this is my first time back in a while.
Oh!
I am so very out of practice. But that’s all this stupid drunken ramble is tonight - an exercise.
Practice.
….Hilarity, really - I’m only barely paying attention as I type it, but i think it may have gotten a little silly up there.
My IP address has been temporarily banned.
The one time i feel like writing, and capturing things down into my long, lost, beloved LiveJournal, and I lock myself out by guessing the password wrong too many times in a row.
The irony is thick here.
All I wanted was to have a few moments, ones that maybe wouldn’t be completely lost in time, and I knew my LJ was the place for that.
And then, that place, for the first time that I can ever remember, was not simply an open door.
Instead, holy cow, I got bounced out of my own club!
I don’t have much to say, I just… miss….
This.
I wish I had a thing to say. I wish I still had those young brilliant wandering thoughts, thoughts that I thought kept company with the best but alas…
Here I am now.
I”m trying so hard. This is what I want to do, but it’s like a dance, and when it comes to remembering the moves there’s a block. What used to once be fluid has turned into disconnected and awkward.
I feel like I used to know me more.
I got lost. I am lost.
That’s ok to say, I think. I think a lot of us are, but we’re afraid of admitting it.
But, if you don’t admit it, even just a little, do you have any hope of ever fully overcoming it?
“Overcoming it.”
Jesus.
Is there such a thing?
Most of the time, you look in someone’s eyes and you can see it. You can in the back of their stare that they’re floating a bit out there, kind of uncertain and unadmittingly aware that they have no idea either.
Oh that sentence, dear lord. That’s an editing problem for later.
I feel like living is just naturally being a little bit lost. This world is one hell of a matrix, and it’s easy to stumble and get confused.
Even if, on occasion it makes sense for a while, like happiness, it never lasts.
The world is unpredictable and surreal. Even the most mundane has undertones of madness.
Unfortunately, it’s mostly predictable and mundane.
The girl who used to write would now interject an anecdote about an extraordinary experience, but old, broken hack writer me has nothing more to offer than a sigh.
The broken dance, turned awkward fumble. And this is my first time back in a while.
Oh!
I am so very out of practice. But that’s all this stupid drunken ramble is tonight - an exercise.
Practice.
….Hilarity, really - I’m only barely paying attention as I type it, but i think it may have gotten a little silly up there.