I am here.
Well, it looks like I'm officially moving to Dreamwidth. I didn't mind about... things... enough to make the move on my own, but it seems that all the communities I'm even semi-active in are closing up over on LJ, and many of my active friends are at least somewhat active on dreamwidth too. My main remaining link at LJ is really the nostalgic grief of knowing that I'm leaving behind the journals of old friends who haven't updated for many years. I'll be automatically crossposting, so hopefully anyone remaining in the ghost town who wants to get back in touch can still find me.
My journal's in the import queue, I guess in the current backlog it'll arrive when it arrives. I've managed to recreate my journal style, which is good even though I've never been particularly fond of white on black, because the background metaphor still suits me in so many ways.
Journalling has become the best thing I can do when I'm drowning, when I feel like I'm struggling to reach the light at the surface and breathe. Groping blindly for the distorted reflections of who I really am through the medium of fiction. Things may seem calm and serene from above but here, beneath the surface, you can see some of my frantic paddling--as well as glimpsing the other nine-tenths of the icebergs floating through my stories. And of course, even when I'm at my most calm, my very favourite thing is to go out late at night and lie on the bottom of the pool, looking up through the water at the darkness and the stars. It makes me feel... peaceful.
The journal is dead. Long live the journal.
Comments welcome on the original post on Dreamwidth - there are
comments there.
(I'm leaving this post open so that anyone without a Dreamwidth account can contact me, but all future cross-posts will be closed for comments on livejournal.)
My journal's in the import queue, I guess in the current backlog it'll arrive when it arrives. I've managed to recreate my journal style, which is good even though I've never been particularly fond of white on black, because the background metaphor still suits me in so many ways.
Journalling has become the best thing I can do when I'm drowning, when I feel like I'm struggling to reach the light at the surface and breathe. Groping blindly for the distorted reflections of who I really am through the medium of fiction. Things may seem calm and serene from above but here, beneath the surface, you can see some of my frantic paddling--as well as glimpsing the other nine-tenths of the icebergs floating through my stories. And of course, even when I'm at my most calm, my very favourite thing is to go out late at night and lie on the bottom of the pool, looking up through the water at the darkness and the stars. It makes me feel... peaceful.
The journal is dead. Long live the journal.
Comments welcome on the original post on Dreamwidth - there are
comments there.
(I'm leaving this post open so that anyone without a Dreamwidth account can contact me, but all future cross-posts will be closed for comments on livejournal.)