3rd
that was then this is now
I’m posting here because apparantely LiveJournal is outdated and was something you did in high school.
It has been brought to my attention that my previous and very intimate poem was .either too abstract - is that an euphimism for bad writing? - or confusing.
Perhaps it is part of that whole strange paradigm of meds, life right now, life last year, and everything about who I am and who I was.
I’m expressive, but I guess in an annoying way and not in a quality that is desirable. It’s more interpreted as needed. Maybe Audre Lorde and feminist theory has fucked me and led me to believe that the personal is the political and being open and honest is a defiance to the partriarchal system; not to mention in defiance of the American insistance, rather socialization, that we must lead an individualistic society that we are one and we are fighting for ourselves (versus collective societies. I guess, either my mind lives in an alternate universe or I am missing something. I don’t like injustice and am vocal. I believe that family is found in places beyond blood relations. I believe in supporting people, with the caveat that I’ve kind of fucked that up because I’ve tyrannically imposed my interpretation of what support, family and friendship is. I can lay blame on numerous things, but at some point it’s me that does them.
I don’t feel like I know who I am, who I’m supposed to be, how I’m supposed to act, what I’m supposed to say. When I’m myself - or what feels honest - it pushes me away and makes me feel like I’m not only incredibly flawed but also someone that can be interpreted as a bad person.
I wallow and obsess or over analyze my problems. It may outwardly seem narcissitic, but I equally worry about other people that I care about. Maybe that’s not enough. I don’t know. I guess I just don’t know who I am supposed to be. I don’t really have many friends here, to some level that is for a reason… I think Jon Huber said something to that degree once.
