nowhere else to go but up april 10th, 2000 *sigh* i just got off of a much-too-long phone call to Dust to discuss my choices in living again and now i am more confused than ever. if it were possible for me, i'd simply lock myself away in a room for the next two weeks and try to come to my own conclusions myself without consulting anyone or asking anyone for advice. sometimes i wonder if there is a thought in my head that is truly my own, if i really have any substance, any opinions that are really mine, or if i am nothing but a collection of the experiences i've had and the influence of the people around me. i am much too malleable for my own good. i've always looked for a definition of myself in someone else. if not one person, than many people. if i can't walk up to a person and ask them "what am i then?" if they can't give me a straight answer, then i feel confused, displaced, lost. i have been more true to myself these past few months than i've ever been, and i can't help but wonder if it is simply because there has been no one in my life, and i've not been around people with strong opinions. except my mother who, for the most part, has kept her opinions wisely to herself. and Aisling, whose most vocal opinion is that i should not make her wait even a second for anything. i know that it isn't true, that i do have my own opinions about things, and my own thoughts, and i do know what is best for me, and i know very well who i am, and what i am, and what makes me up...but sometimes those borders get really confused. and it always seems as i'm never happier as when i have someone who i can chameleon myself to. to create myself in whatever image they need at that moment, to balance out whatever energies they need balancing. if my ex-boyfriends were to get together and compare notes, they would all realize they dated a completely different girl. eric's girlfriend was a very introspective and withdrawn girl who thought too hard and serious about everything, accused him of being too childlike and silly, was totally non-physical, and was extremely dominating and argumentative. Dust's girlfriend was a scared and shy child-like messed-up girl who wanted nothing but to be taken care of, and who was extremely interested in spirtual realizations and odd conspiracies and wanted to "break reality" more than anything in the world. doug's girlfriend was a happy-go-lucky, outgoing, care-free bouncing bundle of happiness, who took absolutely nothing seriously and said "acorn" all the time and drank gallons of surge and became the epitome of the fool. and yes, these are all parts of who i am, they were very much the "real" me during each of those time periods, but sometimes...sometimes i wonder. i've always questioned my authenticity - it's why i'm so touchy about it. i'm insecure about my competency because i am so inconsistant. i hated that aspect of nathaniel because i detest it so much within myself. i know i'm too hard on myself. but that's what this journal is about, isn't it? this endless self-analysis, this opening up of my skull and picking through the pieces of that gray matter to see what might be inside, to try to figure out what this tangled mess is all about. the one thing that really is truely mine, without a doubt - my writing. no matter what archetype i am living out, the words i use, the creations i make, they learn, and evolve, and grow, and change, but in a pattern that makes perfect sense, and that can be understood. that carries no mirrors are mirages. my words make sense, even if they don't. what am i, then? afraid. i laugh at how brave my friends continuously tell me i am. if i act courageously, more than likely it's simply because i'm scared of looking like a coward. i have no self-confidence about the things that matter. i may be attractive, with a sweet and pretty demeanor, but i'm terrified that below all of that there is absolutely no substance at all, that i'm really hollow and superficial and that if i let someone get close to me, they'll see that and so i'm constantly pushing people out of my life, unless they are the people i happen to be molding myself around. and i'm sitting here looking at this entry debating on whether or not i should even put it up. it is so brutally, brutally honest and it sounds pathetic. i can't even keep on a coherent rail of thought or finish my point before i've found something else to ramble on about. but i feel like venting, and that's what this journal is for, and if i start to feel like i can't speak whatever comes to mind then it's time for me to move again. i think i know that i really *do* have substance. but i'm terrified that one day i'll wake up and realize that it's all been an act. like an actor waking up outside of his masks to realize he's put so much into the play itself that he's totally neglected to develop his own personality. sometimes i get scared that even motherhood is like that for me. that's why i find comfort that my most tender moments with Aisling are when no one is watching. i know that i'm not putting on a show with her. at least that's one thing i'm sure of. even my webcam. putting up my webcam and leaving it on like i was for a while throughout the day. incentive to keep the house clean, to keep myself studying, to keep myself with the seeming of a totally responsible person, for fear somebody would call me "irresponsible," for fear that i might seem like i have absolutely no clue what i'm doing. *pause* i feel as if i've totally devoured my own head this past year. maybe that's why i feel like i have no substance - because i've analyzed every single twist and turn and nook and cranny that i don't know which end is up anymore. i try to remember the lessons i've learned from those most significant influences in my life. from doug, that i just needed to live, and that to live was enough. that thinking too much isn't good for a person. it drives one crazy. i've always identified with marion, the trapeze artist from wings of desire because of her thought processes. they go rambling on and on and on seemingly without end, nothing organized, beautiful words, all in discovery of herself, and the love that will make her whole. i wonder if everyone else second-guesses themselves as much as i do, if they look at themselves and try to find the reasoning behind every little thing they've done. perhaps no. perhaps i the entire reason i chide other people (namely Dust) for *not* going into long self-analytic nonsense about themselves is because i feel very self-absorbed and silly for continually being in this place where i have the need to interpret every single little detail of my life. as if i were a literary work that was being hacked to pieces by the english majors in a western world lit class. i read an alice in wonderland story about that, once. perhaps i'm just jealous because other people are not nearly as self-absorbed as i am, and i want some sense of security in knowing i am not alone. anyway. this was really, really not the tangent i wanted to go off on. people read my journal, and recently i know it has sounded totally depressed, and unhappy, and confused, and belittling. but it's really not as bad as it seems, by reading this. i just need a place to vent, and this is my place. to just...you know. do that thing. i'm really not depressed. or sad. or disappointed in myself. i am confused, but i'm working on it. and here's how. so, let's make a list. positive influences of murfreesboro: wonderful friends the ability to "experience college" a university i am familiar with and really like the ability to truly get out on my own and accomplish something. negative influences of murfreesboro: little money Aisling left in the care of strangers stress far away from family big risk. positive influences of greeneville: security and stability wide open green spaces with little crime rate near family always have a support to lean on for help, financially or with Aisling negative influences of greeneville: the possibility my grandparents will try to run my life (though they have promised to change) away from civilization and friends having to commute nearly an hour every day to a school i am unfamiliar with that has a sucky web page. hmm. *that* was helpful. :P i'm going to go get some food now. soma april 10th, 2000 i'm listening to "siamese dream" by the smashing pumpkins, and i'm feeling a lot better. for some reason, simply *listening* to this album puts me in a better frame of mind. it's cathartic, and a pick-me-up at the same time. and, it is also the only smashing pumpkins album i personally own. i feel rather embarrassed about that last entry. i feel like deleting it, but i also know that would pretty much ruin the whole point of having an online journal. i just feel like it was silly and pointless and (da-da-dum!) melodramatic, (chink) but, whatever. sometimes you just gotta...you know. do your thing. i just discovered something that made me very nostalgic for my penpaling era...when i was a freshman and sophomore in high school, i followed in the footsteps of my mentor, matthew (whom i was rather infatuated at the time, being a pointless crush, as the boy was six years older than me...ah well) and started writing all sorts of really wonderful and neat people across the united states (this being before i discovered the internet and the wonderous powers therein.) there was something called "friendship books," which you would decorate all pretty in your paints and glitter and black lace and pictures (matthew and i even had really neat little cure mailing labels made together) and then you would send them on to the next person to decorate. i still have an entire boxfull of ones yet-to-be-decorated in my closet at home in greeneville. i sometimes miss letter writing. there was something so personal about it, some sort of basic essence to it that you simply can't achieve in the cyberworld. people would send you neat teabags, crushed roses, handmade valentines, lots of gliter and stars and little black bat confetti, and the envelopes could be so incredibly elaborately decorated...it was really amazing. and i befriended some of the most amazing and wonderful people - vicki, "requiem," pauline, sarada, the mad platter, etc. it was a wonderful time, and a way for me to socialize since there was only eric at high school whom i could really hold a conversation with. i miss those people. i wish i had kept in touch with at least *some* of them. but i became really disallusioned with the whole scene when one of my "best friends" whom i had shared intricate details of my life with, and whom was *supposed* to be a 15 year old teenage girl, ended up being a forty-some-odd year old man whom was a child pornography hound and was eventually arrested. and that person had sent me underwear for my birthday. ewww? but another thing that used to circulate in the penpal world was something called "slambooks," littered with strange and bizarre questions that each person would have to answer, and the general theme in my circle of friends was to try to answer them as oddly as possible. so i ran across this and thought it was wonderful. i'm going to sign myself up with them soon, when i am feeling in a more creative mood. the starfish is being incredibly fussy at the moment. i have no idea why. perhaps she does not like the smashing pumpkins? i can only guess. i've decided i want to be rid of my domain name and webhost. the domain name for the year was already paid for back when i had a job and money, and the webhosting is only $10 a month, but that $10 could be used for more important things...like diapers, or baby wipes, or shampoo. it would be one thing if i were really using the site, but i spend all my time with this online journal, or making journals for other people. i guess i'm just not comfortable with my main site anymmore. i feel like anything i post or change will be automatically judged and used to prove what an incompetent and insane person i am. and between sites like pitas, scribble, and diaryland who let you do whatever you want to your page and make them easily updatable, there doesn't seem much use to tackle the HTML more than once. which means i could focus my free time on other more constructive venues. like uploading all my new pictures of Aisling. :) besides, the domain name anotherwonderland.com will be used by Dust and i's business soon enough anyway. so what's the point? yep, i'm a lazy bum. but this is funny.