Livejournal: What Happened?

I am still not sure why I feel I need to leave Livejournal.

I think that I have been treating my Livejournal as a social outlet, instead of a writing outlet for so long, that I no longer associate my Livejournal with anything of real substance. It is fluff. It’s my cotton candy life. Not that I pretend, or anything, but there is hardly anything of me in there. It is a bit empty. Unfulfilling. I do not really get anything out of writing in there, besides talking with friends. I used to write because I enjoyed writing. When I write in my LJ, I often feel rushed, like I should write something, because I ‘have to’.

I am not really sure what I am going to put here. I am hoping everything. Daily life, pictures, wants, hopes, sad things, happy things, boring things that only I care about, things that I usually keep hidden away, things that I should show to everything, but usually feel too afraid to. I always feel more open with a strange audience, than one that I know so personally. I can tell a stranger anything, but telling a friend something? That’s another story.

 

Goals

I am going to keep a list of goals going.

One that I have been thinking of, but putting off for this reason or that is to start reading regularly again. For fun! None of this reading to learn crap. I keep finding reasons to not read, & I know that I feel so much better when I have taken time out to just dig into a good book. So, I just put Mrs. Dalloway on hold. I love Virginia Woolf. I could sit & read her diaries for hours. Just her life, the way she wrote.

I also want to start keeping better track of my health. I have so much that I feel I need to do, that I am getting overwhelmed. Change my diet, my sleep, my everything. Just totally CHANGE. Yet, I resist change. It is not me. So, this is hard. I like the old, comfort of things that I know. I get nervous in new places. New people scare me. But you know, that is never going to get me any where, now is it?

Another goal of mine is to limit my goals. Ha. I have so much that I hope for, that I end of not accomplishing anything in the mean time. Then I just see myself as a failure, instead of all that I have done. One by one, it will get done. I have changed, but I guess it has been so little over such a long time, that it does not seem as if anything has moved.

I honestly feel at times that I am some how trapped in this place, just waiting for something, waiting & waiting, for what? I do not have the answers, so I just sit & bide my time. It is like an itch that I cannot scratch, because I have no idea how to. I do not know where to start, because I do not know what is missing. I look at it all, & it looks whole. It looks right. But it doesn’t FEEL right. I feel unsatisfied with myself, who I try to be, & how I fail.

It is not everything else.

It is me.

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I found this great set of pictures on Flickr. Such back-story to each picture is amazing to me. I love history.

Music: More Tori! Listening to “Carbon” on repeat.

Feeling: Kinda tired.

 

Fresh & Clean.

I love new things, but as much as I love the new, I also stick around with the well-known & loved for a long time. Sometimes, way too long.

Good things that I have kept around: my husband, Brian, & my best friend, Ali. I met them both during my freshmen year of high school. Almost ten years ago. Funny, how I managed to meet two of the most important people in my life during the same year. Then there are the shoes that I lovingly wore to death (& then bought another pair of). And of course, the little pieces of my history that only mean something to me. The notes, the letters, the pictures.

Bad things that I have been known to keep around for too long: friends who were not really friends any more, jobs that made my heart black, & habits that I have a hard time kicking.

So, here is to the new. Here is to me, writing. I am realizing more & more that I need to take care of myself. I need something to hold me accountable. I need these words, all these thoughts, to be put out there, so that I can see them, & hopefully, bring them into reality. If they stay inside my head, then they are not really real.

Music: Tori Amos “Blood Roses”

Feeling: headache-y