(no subject)
Mar. 19th, 2003 01:03 pmI'm feeling kind of isolated lately. There's nothing specific I can blame this on, so maybe it's just a feeling. It could be that, in my slow learning process of how social interactions work, I mistake proximity for closeness, and as of late I've not felt too terribly proximal to most (save my favorite of the fey). Again, it's nothing in particular, just probably a collusion of events and circumstances that unfortunately reinforce my own internal proclivities towards negativity.
Of course, geopolitical events only add to the stress. I'm a firm believer that Jody Foster should dedicate a soft-core bit of erotica to all the Hinckleys in the world, but that's unlikely to happen. I'm afraid that, until we undergo our own regime change, things will continue in the slow procession from bad to worse. But, that's only grist for the mill.
I feel generally estranged (as opposed to generally strange, which is an accepted everyday state). The negative spiral inside keeps trying to assure me that this is only a taste of what's to come, particularly as I begin to position myself noticeably outside of common social boundaries. Why does it feel that, in rejecting unquestioned binarisms, the poles suddenly become Schylla and Charibdis, and I'm on a slow moving raft with no rudder? Though I suspect it's not so, it feels like this is what it will be like when I no longer "pass" either way; people will slowly fade from my life for all sorts of perfectly valid reasons, but as a part of a pattern that will leave me with my cats and my beloved.
I'm realizing, possibly, that "close" is a peculiar standard, and that it holds different meanings and criteria to all sorts of people. While I aspire to be free from a lot of internal constraint, I won't do so without standards, nor will I take any offer. I guess I am a beggar, trying very hard to be a chooser. As most who've known me for any amount of time/quality will likely attest, I am ever one to cut off my nose to spite my face.
Crap, speaking in aphorisms is a clear sign it's time to stop.
Of course, geopolitical events only add to the stress. I'm a firm believer that Jody Foster should dedicate a soft-core bit of erotica to all the Hinckleys in the world, but that's unlikely to happen. I'm afraid that, until we undergo our own regime change, things will continue in the slow procession from bad to worse. But, that's only grist for the mill.
I feel generally estranged (as opposed to generally strange, which is an accepted everyday state). The negative spiral inside keeps trying to assure me that this is only a taste of what's to come, particularly as I begin to position myself noticeably outside of common social boundaries. Why does it feel that, in rejecting unquestioned binarisms, the poles suddenly become Schylla and Charibdis, and I'm on a slow moving raft with no rudder? Though I suspect it's not so, it feels like this is what it will be like when I no longer "pass" either way; people will slowly fade from my life for all sorts of perfectly valid reasons, but as a part of a pattern that will leave me with my cats and my beloved.
I'm realizing, possibly, that "close" is a peculiar standard, and that it holds different meanings and criteria to all sorts of people. While I aspire to be free from a lot of internal constraint, I won't do so without standards, nor will I take any offer. I guess I am a beggar, trying very hard to be a chooser. As most who've known me for any amount of time/quality will likely attest, I am ever one to cut off my nose to spite my face.
Crap, speaking in aphorisms is a clear sign it's time to stop.