I haven't actually kept a blog since I was a teenager. Well, no, that's a lie. I still post in my Livejournal about once a year. I couldn't tell you EXACTLY why. Generally to complain about whatever godless scenario I've gotten myself into now. Or just an ongoing debate I have with myself about whether I really want to be with my lover. I don't think it matters who I'm with. That question will ALWAYS be a question, plaguing me. I'm never good at making decisions. When I make one, I never live down that "what if" feeling. What if I leave this hipster furry dreamboat and move in with an Egyptian artist in southern California? What if I swear off this profoundly insipid concept of "love" and go off on my own somewhere? Who in hell knows. My life is such an interesting bundle of whys and what ifs and if I don'ts and I need tos. Still, I'm living the dream, aren't I? I left and have ALL BUT FORGOTTEN the enormous portion of my life spent in Minnesota. How can fourteen years mean nothing? I'm constantly bothered by how little the past matters. How little this singular moment will mean tomorrow. I'm over thinking it, clearly. And usually I ignore these questions. I feel like smoking weed only ever makes them stronger. A narcotic that actually makes you MORE contemplative. How needless. I need to take some days off for seeing my dad this upcoming summer. It's interesting how my old character, Rowan Meredith, has become an allegory for how much I both resent and admire my father. Gossamer's flavor text under her account says something like, "Writing reveals soul." Well, it's true, isn't it? Some would say that roleplaying is the earnest taking... |
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