drainage

Keeping myself constantly at the bottom of the totem pole has lead me to become extremely agitated and uncomfortable when confronted with the people at the top. I'm not one to be victimized or even vulnerable, but my battle with my self has a way of interfering with anything I hold dear to me. Consequently, my relationships, both physical and virtual tend to fray right before my eyes, and sometimes even at my bidding. I've gone through a series of bad habits that vary from such as extremes as nail-biting to an unhealthy obsession with LiveJournal.com. A twenty year old is clearly not expected to entertain a working definition of what life is at the current point but if these past eight months are any indication of what my future has in store for me, I am inclined to quietly find a small hiding place, hibernate, and hopefully when I emerge, the situation will have changed. Unlikely. Therefore as an attempt to finally get on track, I realized that writing is the first and foremost way for me to do that.
I don't really have any idea who I am. I can go through various lists of habits, tendencies, and characteristics but they're nothing unique. In fact, I'm not even sure who I am even matters. I've gone through so many changes the past two years. I went from being an unsure creative writing major to a confused english major to end up with philosophy as my outlet. And now I'm back with what I know best, but still second guessing myself, wanting to be the scientist.

July 27th, 2007

Various forms of communication tend to fail. Light tends to lean. Faces begin to blur and memory shows no mercy. The damage of ten days, the damage of one. To breathe, I ache. My back arches, my fingers flailing against the keyboard but the words have already been said again and again. Year after year. Even this is a familiar tiredness. I am not scared of knowing anymore. I am scared of believing.

November 16th, 2009