I’m feeling the need to journal… publicly. I’m sitting at the Golden Raost, my head is spinning with that “sickness” feeling… I probably needed more sleep than I got last night. But I can’t take a nap because I won’t be able to sleep tonight. These problems only point to one solution: coffee.
:ooh, beautiful blonde-haired boy walking by:
Today, I had breakfast with Mum; the blood-kind, not chrysanthi-. It was great. But that’s not what’s on my mind right now. I’d like to talk about what’s on my mind right now. That is what journalling tends to consist of… aHEMahemahem… mmmmmm… coffeeeeeee… coffeecoffeecoffee….
I’ve got that feeling that’s a cover for a real feeling. It’s the default feeling when I don’t want to feel what a particular feeling. I want to know exactly how to reject that rejection. Poor feelings, they just want to be felt! Stop ignoring them! If you ignore them – contrary to popular belief – they do not go away. Just like little brothers. And, also like little brothers, if you feel the feeling, it turns out to not be the thing you disliked anyway. Usually the actual THING that I’m avoiding (in rejecting a feeling) is – hey, there’s Nathan Fray – oh sorry–usually I’m avoiding, plain and simply, “shame.”
Let’s talk about shame. But first let’s talk about that beautiful black lady walking across the street… no, let’s not talk about her… let’s just appreciate her. ::moment of silence::
So… shame… mmmm… being EXPOSED. Isn’t it interesting… that what I want more than anything in the WORLD is to be SEEN, and the LAST thing I want is to be EXPOSED. Isn’t it also interesting, that… in the moment of shame, I listen to the voices of darkness rather than the voices of light. I wonder why I do that… you’d think… hmmm, don’t know…
I’m swinging my feet… it’s totally relaxing. There are so many young people around here. Crazy. This is an awesome place. I love the windows. I feel like I’m a bird on a perch, for some reason. That boy has a .lot. of hair. Gracious. …And THAT boy drives a UPS truck. That makes him the hottest thing on the street. Except for me.
All right, so what was I talking about in the first place? Shame. I’ve had an interesting experience with shame in the past several weeks. Ever since I realized I’ve been living vicariously through (is that redundant?) people, I’ve been really embarrassed to exist (another cute boy..). My self-worth has been brought into the spotlight, and questions have been asked (from the spirit world) such as, “Do you really think you can do it?” (oh, the enigmatic “it”) and “If you are what you do – you’re… Evil?”
CUTE BOY APPROACHING. He looks like James Mercer!! Oh law, please come in…awwwww man.
Anyway… yeah, so these questions… wow, this post must be really boring. I don’t feel like I’ve connected ONE dot… just a bunch of spastic…ness. Bleh. I think I’m going to draw or something. Read maybe. I wonder if I should even post this… aw heck why not.