February 9th, 2001

the torch-ginger

(no subject)

Wanting more than anything to be able to heal myself, or let myself be healed. Living of life of distractions, anything to escape the horror of the emptiness that adulthood promises, my heart lost.
the torch-ginger

opening the door

Gosh, how much I just wish that I didn't have to create extensions of myself via the web to be able to spend time with friends. Distance relationships (friendships, romance, etc.) are like distance learning, you feel like you're cheating yourself and them of the time you could really be spending with them. I admire people like birdofparadox who seem to be able to communicate and even _live_ part of their lives so comfortably on the net, as if they have created a home for themselves. That's what I hope to do here, to build a niche that I can inhabit, invite you guys in for coffee, share the things that make us human (whether pain, bliss or blah), even if it is only in 1's and 0's. I've always chatted with people online, but never really felt like I was a web-denizen. Now, I'm laying the foundation of a place to stay while I'm in Japan, a little place all my own on the web. I don't know if it'll be a really large and spacious suburban home with comfy sofas and a big screen TV or a tiny temporary apartment, complete with bar stools and a threadbare rug, just enough to get me by until I can come home in the real world. Who knows, if it starts to feel like home, I might just decide to keep paying rent on the place. Either way, welcome, friends.

The computer is a relatively new palette when it comes to my writing, as well. While I write my papers directly on the computer, it involved little romance or flourish. In my academic writing words just fall into their places, demonstrating a precise balance of political correctness and clinical astuteness. My personal writing, however, has always been done the old-fashioned way, by hand, lovingly pressed into crinkled paper or battered journals that have become as much a part of me as my old, wind-up, stuffed raccoon that used to hum me to sleep.

To nyarl: you give really good hugs. I wish I could have one. And I don't think that life is by nature empty…which makes it so disturbing that I so often feel like that's the way my life is fated to be if I continue on my track in the "business" world. But then again, I'm sure I'll feel much better once I get these blasted papers out of the way and I can concentrate on what I really care about…living.
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