X Years Ago Today
Apr. 21st, 2009 02:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressOne year ago today, it was 2008, and I was reflecting on the strange things my mind did to me the night before.
As a part of looking this up, and went and reread the BtW entry from that night. Remember when I was talking about Letters I'll Never Send? The entry in question was more or less an extraordinarily long, state-of-the-relationship address, one of those. It eventually digressed a bit, to be more universal and less specific.
20April2k8
[2323]
Because, if you didn't already know, this is how I bracket all my BtW entries. Times and dates.
"What should I listen to?" she asked, knowing full well the answer already. Vienna Teng. Sad, beautiful, melancholy, strong music.
NTS to go ahead and post that essay about how Vienna Teng is my Tori Amos sometime, as you've had it typed and sitting on your desktop for what, a week now?
before things go any further (farther?)
This is just me laughing at my brain. I like that I notice this sort of thing.
Fuck you, Kat. Sor. Whatever. God shitting damnit, I don't even have a *name* for myself anymore. I hate this.
The 'fuck you' because I can get severely verbally abusive against myself in there. Not a happy place. The rest of it just because I find it really really interesting to think about the fact that I use Kat and Sor largely interchangably. I do tend to use Kat more when abusing myself, though my insecurities are quite clever enough to dehumanize me --somewhere, I have an essay about my use of the phrase "Little Girl" to post.
Doesn't matter what I say, empty words falling upon absent ears.
(And the detached part of my brain, the one that watches always for errors in thought and word and sound smiles at the way that last sentence flows. She likes it. Good for fucking her, that she can find beauty in this pain.
Good for fucking me, that I can draw out pain from this beauty. That's what love it, silly sorceress, remember? You sick fuck, perverting what was once meant to be good.)
Again, with my brain always having at least one part detached, to notice these things, and again with the abuse. And again with the names. Yeah.
For what it's worth, I'm all of a sudden unsure that love *is* the perfect beauty thing it's made out to be. Or maybe it is, but it's just so hard to get pure love that it sometimes seems not to be worth it --all love is tainted by other things, by lust, by complication, by friendship, by jealousy, by guilt. Andyeah. Love has a lot of pain in it, for something that claims to be the One Great Good.
And this is a long bit, but I think it's pretty well written:
People care. People give a shit about you Kat. They want you to be happy. It's your own damn fault you can't be, you can't just pick up your damn phone and reach the friendly voice on the other end.
(I just want them to be happy! I don't want to inturrupt their happiness, their fun, love, joy, with my depression. I can't do that.
I can't.)
I'm alone.
And I shouldn't have to be. There's only one thing keeping me there, and that one thing is myself. I wouldn't have to be alone. I could find myself a pair of arms to fall into, maybe even the ones I want. I just have to ask.
One simple question. "Can you talk to me?" "Can I have a hug?" "Can I come over?"
Can. I. Cry. On. Your. Shoulder.
I'm alone.
I'm just so. Damn. Alone.
Because I'm not strong enough to reach out. I'm not strong enough to trust them. Any of them.
To trust that they weren't lying when they said they loved me. To trust that I really can talk to them, cry on them, be with them. To trust that they care about me, that they don't think I'm a waste of time.
To trust that they'll tell me if I'm busy. To trust that I'm important enough to them that they won't be, regardless of anything they might be doing.
To trust.
I'm alone.
I don't have to be.
I'm weak.
And it's keeping me.
Alone.
...ignore the stiltedness at the end there. I sometimes get angst-poetic with my writings.
That trust thing I emphasised? Yeah, that's big. That's one of those things that's big enough to warrant this post getting a "reasons why sorcy is fucked up" tag. Because, well...Yeah.
I don't trust much of any of you. It's not you, it really is me. I trust that you're around to provide that sort of care for your friends, but I can't possibly trust that I'm a good enough person to be worth that kind of service to *anyone*.
Think of it as really *really* low self-esteem. I have...uses, I have bits of me that are less awful than the others, and I tend to be more self-assured when in the situations that require that out of me. But when the only things you could get out of me are intangible --"friendship" foremost among them-- I'm never going to trust that you won't just find someone better and move on.
No. Seriously. I am young and stupid and kinda a total waste of time. You really *don't* have to keep pretending to like me, it's okay.
And yes, my self-defense mechanism is unbelievable egotism, why do you ask? Mom was what first pointed out that that was, in fact, a mechanism to me --no one who has that "I AM DAMN GOOD!" attitude is actually that cocksure. Except for Zaphod, of course, which is why I make a point of differentiating between when I feel Zaphodic and when I merely feel egotistical.
And yeah, that's all. I'm feeling just fine at the moment --![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tirerim and I are gonna go take advantage of Ben and Jerry's free ice cream day thing in a couple minutes. I just found the honesty to be something that should be shared. Yeah. *shrugs*
Take care, you lot.
~Sor
MOOP!
(P.S: Magus and I have been watching Being Human. It's a bit wonderful, yes.
As a part of looking this up, and went and reread the BtW entry from that night. Remember when I was talking about Letters I'll Never Send? The entry in question was more or less an extraordinarily long, state-of-the-relationship address, one of those. It eventually digressed a bit, to be more universal and less specific.
20April2k8
[2323]
Because, if you didn't already know, this is how I bracket all my BtW entries. Times and dates.
"What should I listen to?" she asked, knowing full well the answer already. Vienna Teng. Sad, beautiful, melancholy, strong music.
NTS to go ahead and post that essay about how Vienna Teng is my Tori Amos sometime, as you've had it typed and sitting on your desktop for what, a week now?
before things go any further (farther?)
This is just me laughing at my brain. I like that I notice this sort of thing.
Fuck you, Kat. Sor. Whatever. God shitting damnit, I don't even have a *name* for myself anymore. I hate this.
The 'fuck you' because I can get severely verbally abusive against myself in there. Not a happy place. The rest of it just because I find it really really interesting to think about the fact that I use Kat and Sor largely interchangably. I do tend to use Kat more when abusing myself, though my insecurities are quite clever enough to dehumanize me --somewhere, I have an essay about my use of the phrase "Little Girl" to post.
Doesn't matter what I say, empty words falling upon absent ears.
(And the detached part of my brain, the one that watches always for errors in thought and word and sound smiles at the way that last sentence flows. She likes it. Good for fucking her, that she can find beauty in this pain.
Good for fucking me, that I can draw out pain from this beauty. That's what love it, silly sorceress, remember? You sick fuck, perverting what was once meant to be good.)
Again, with my brain always having at least one part detached, to notice these things, and again with the abuse. And again with the names. Yeah.
For what it's worth, I'm all of a sudden unsure that love *is* the perfect beauty thing it's made out to be. Or maybe it is, but it's just so hard to get pure love that it sometimes seems not to be worth it --all love is tainted by other things, by lust, by complication, by friendship, by jealousy, by guilt. Andyeah. Love has a lot of pain in it, for something that claims to be the One Great Good.
And this is a long bit, but I think it's pretty well written:
People care. People give a shit about you Kat. They want you to be happy. It's your own damn fault you can't be, you can't just pick up your damn phone and reach the friendly voice on the other end.
(I just want them to be happy! I don't want to inturrupt their happiness, their fun, love, joy, with my depression. I can't do that.
I can't.)
I'm alone.
And I shouldn't have to be. There's only one thing keeping me there, and that one thing is myself. I wouldn't have to be alone. I could find myself a pair of arms to fall into, maybe even the ones I want. I just have to ask.
One simple question. "Can you talk to me?" "Can I have a hug?" "Can I come over?"
Can. I. Cry. On. Your. Shoulder.
I'm alone.
I'm just so. Damn. Alone.
Because I'm not strong enough to reach out. I'm not strong enough to trust them. Any of them.
To trust that they weren't lying when they said they loved me. To trust that I really can talk to them, cry on them, be with them. To trust that they care about me, that they don't think I'm a waste of time.
To trust that they'll tell me if I'm busy. To trust that I'm important enough to them that they won't be, regardless of anything they might be doing.
To trust.
I'm alone.
I don't have to be.
I'm weak.
And it's keeping me.
Alone.
...ignore the stiltedness at the end there. I sometimes get angst-poetic with my writings.
That trust thing I emphasised? Yeah, that's big. That's one of those things that's big enough to warrant this post getting a "reasons why sorcy is fucked up" tag. Because, well...Yeah.
I don't trust much of any of you. It's not you, it really is me. I trust that you're around to provide that sort of care for your friends, but I can't possibly trust that I'm a good enough person to be worth that kind of service to *anyone*.
Think of it as really *really* low self-esteem. I have...uses, I have bits of me that are less awful than the others, and I tend to be more self-assured when in the situations that require that out of me. But when the only things you could get out of me are intangible --"friendship" foremost among them-- I'm never going to trust that you won't just find someone better and move on.
No. Seriously. I am young and stupid and kinda a total waste of time. You really *don't* have to keep pretending to like me, it's okay.
And yes, my self-defense mechanism is unbelievable egotism, why do you ask? Mom was what first pointed out that that was, in fact, a mechanism to me --no one who has that "I AM DAMN GOOD!" attitude is actually that cocksure. Except for Zaphod, of course, which is why I make a point of differentiating between when I feel Zaphodic and when I merely feel egotistical.
And yeah, that's all. I'm feeling just fine at the moment --
tirerim and I are gonna go take advantage of Ben and Jerry's free ice cream day thing in a couple minutes. I just found the honesty to be something that should be shared. Yeah. *shrugs*Take care, you lot.
~Sor
MOOP!
(P.S: Magus and I have been watching Being Human. It's a bit wonderful, yes.