10:10 p.m. - 03/08/03
cerebral scattergories.
I have to say I'm moved by the way people are responding (so far) to my response to that diaryring. People are being so kind, and it's sad, but I still don't expect kindness. Especially not in a case where I'm being somewhat confrontational. I'm really grateful for how reasonable and understanding everyone has been thus far. (The thus-far is my way of saying I still expect to be hit over the head with a typewritten mallet tomorrow. Experience dies hard.)
I did semi-ok today. Felt kind of queasy, and didn't like that I couldn't know why- since there's a flu bug going around, the weather is wacky, I have new meds which could give me side effects, and I have new meds which could distill a migraine to mild queasiness. That's a bit better now, thankfully, though I still have a few pills to swallow before sleeping. I spent most of the day drawing in my sketchy-memorial-book, which I still can't seem to think of a term for. I'm working on it a lot lately, and I think it helps me to know that I can do more than one page for a person if I choose that. It's weird that I didn't understand that earlier, but now that I know it doesn't have to be a definitive thing, just help expressing the emotion of the moment, I'm more relaxed about it, and I'm working on it more. I even decided to splurge and go buy the world's best colored pencils (Prismacolor.) By the grace of goblins, I randomly ended up going to this craft store that was having a huge sale (the place was packed- which sucked) and the normally fifteen dollar pencils were eight. That was pretty rocking.
And my mom is finally talking about moving. Now that she can't stand her job a moment longer (if I felt like staying up to search, I would point out the exact atomgirl entry where I predicted this phenomena, but hey, I'm not complaining that we escaped Neverland) she's talking about moving to the city as originally agreed. I'm in a weird place inside it all. I'm lobbying for my favorite neighborhood, at the same time I'm aware that by the time they move, I might not be going with them. I don't know how to think about any of that. I no longer have any concept of, "I'll be in college next fall" and that scares me just a little because college is safe, college is sensible, college is how I know where I am in the world. If I don't have that structure, what will become of me? In addition to which, it's scary to progress toward a future that's unclear. I'd rather have a strong fantasy I decide to change than walk blindly into destiny. I'd rather make choices and clear ones at that...
Hampshire decides whether or not they want me by next month. Who knows exactly when I decide whether or not I want them. I guess I've definitely found an alternative to "if I don't get in the world will end" - but it seems to be complete uncertainty about everything. The world seems divided into such simple categories, and I can't make a path to fit them without knowing what I want. If I want to work somewhere like RED, the path is different than if I want to do something like Laura does, or if I want to be an active member fully-focused in RMM. I don't know. Maybe I need to clarify what I want. I may be having a small identity crisis right now (the It fiasco), but I still know myself far better than I did before; I should be able to come up with some legitimate guidelines for my future. Unless the fact that I know myself is the problem. I can't conform to any version of what I want because nothing fits my needs entirely. In which case I need to...what? Lower my standards? Carve my own path? Bah. I'm just going to live in a library and tell pretty stories to people who think I'm crazy and kids who think I'm brilliant. That sounds good.
Meanwhile, the spiritual crisis ensues. I don't consider that self-fulfilling; I consider it accurate prediction and recognition of personal pattern. Basically (because it's 10:30 but I feel like it's 1) I've spent the fast few weeks feeling really strongly that "God" is sort a skewed interpretation of what I really feel is out there, and for the first time that didn't seem like a loss. Spirituality to me hasn't always meant religion, but it's always involved God, and to feel any sort of peace and grounding without that exact idea was new. Then today, I started to feel all this nostalgic need for my early God-days (junior high.) The time when I listened to people like Carolyn Arends and Georgy Rock (who nearly made me cry tonight; there's nothing *wrong* with talking about God in your songs), watched Touched By An Angel, and prayed to somebody above the sky. I'm not sure what about that I missed. I still feel like there's real love in the world. I still feel like there's some wisdom I can call on whenever I need to ("someone" to talk with.) I still feel created out of that love. I think maybe it's just the newness of what I'm starting to believe, and the less-mainstream nature of it. I need to understand my own feelings better so I can feel safe in them. In the meantime, I'll write vague paragraphs in my online journal to disguise any actual epiphanies. Mwa.
I woke up this morning with At Last* in my head, and I think I'm going to bed with What a Difference a Day Makes. I'm just so much more at ease than I was last night. Yes, the issue is still huge, and there are still people dying, and there's still too much pain, and I still have no way to handle it. But. No one beat me up today (the way I was beat up before, or even in a new or different way) and people actually understood and took action based on my words. That's powerful to me. That's more power than I've allowed my writing in a long while. (Meaning that, and the EDAW mails, and my possible collaboration with Laura.) Maybe everything that's up for me right now isn't entirely random. It may start to fall into place eventually. The peacefullness of being spiritually copacetic, the creative outlet of writing [as a form of communication], and the desperate and self-serving need to serve others. There must be somewhere I fit. There must be something I could do and do well. Do happily.
Once all those receptors in my brain are reorganized, of course...
chord
*I dinna know
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