Sep. 20th, 2008

trickykitty: (Default)
This isn't me. This is a very small extension of me that I share usually when I just have something to blurt out and no one around to hear me. Or maybe there are people around, but I want more than one person to hear. Maybe I really only want a single person to hear, but I don't want them to know that I want them to hear. So I don't send them a personal note or an email, but instead put the info here and cross my fingers that they'll read it, and even better somehow comment back, and then I'll know for sure that they've read it.

It's fun being able to say you are both a simple yet complicated creature all in the same breath. I think most everyone is. There's a part of you that's basic and quite defining. Then there's the part of you in your mind that's most likely a bit warped and self-deluding. That's the you that you know of yourself and that others can get to know over time, but it's not the you that everyone knows. The you that everyone knows is quite self-contained and not running amok in your neurons.

I have a personal diary that I used to write in daily. Sometimes it's weekly. Lately it's been yearly. Yeah, you heard me right. I can go a whole year and just sum it all up into one or two pages of stuff unlike the sonnets I've been leaving on the intertrons. It's as though all those thoughts I had during the year were enough for my brain to remember by itself, and just a few lines of dribble is enough to bring it all back in a flash of emotional being. I can also look back. The diary itself fills multiple little journals. I've been maintaining it since before I graduated high school. I used to think I was really messed up in my brain back then. I still do think that. Am I saying that I still think I was messed up in my brain back then, or that I still think I am messed up in my brain right now? Hm. I guess that could go either way now could it. I just believe that's how most everyone thinks. They still think that about themselves as though being an emotional creature is somehow a sin, and feeling overwhelmed or distraught or infatuated somehow makes them a monster.

That's what we put into our secret diaries you know. Feelings so strong that society tells us they are wrong. Feelings that cause our hearts to want to pound out of our chest and our stomach to do flip-flops from all the butterflies inside. Butterflies with curved claws and scaly wings and gnashing teeth. (Flashback to UNKLE's Eye For An Eye video)

There's a part of me here, but it's not me. Or at least not all of me. Or maybe it is all of me. Maybe I really am so transparent to those who know me that everything that is written here is all a person ever really needs to know in order to know me. Maybe it all sums me up in such a way because it's all of the miscellaneous stuff that pops into mind, and that's the stuff that makes me the strange and weird person that I really think I am. Maybe these words are all that anyone else needs to read to remind themselves of how much we are all alike and yet all different at the same time.

I need some coffee.

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