My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I don’t really have much today. It was a slow day. Tomorrow night, I’m going to an Alanis Morissette acoustic show, I’m really excited about that, her voice, her honesty, her use of words is so beautiful without a bunch of instruments and a ton of noise.

Otherwise, I’m really very melancholy.

I’m just going to write the thoughts in my head because I need to start writing again, and anything is probably better than nothing. Unless the anything is a bunch of boring stuff that’s really boring, so I’ll try to avoid that…

Right now, I’m thinking about someone, two someones. I’ve been in love with someone for a long time, for years. لعب روليت حقيقي Monica, she’s everything to me, nobody has ever affected me like her. We click, being with her, it’s as natural as breathing. Around her, I feel like the me in my head, I’ve never had to wear a mask to make her love me. She does love me, she loves me exactly as I am, all the shininess, and the dark darkness. I am genuinely happy when I’m with her, I feel peace. It’s just, our relationship hasn’t been a straight-line. لعبة روليت للايفون

We’ve been in love for so long, best friends who so wanted more. Getting to more, it just didn’t seem like it would ever happen. We’d get SO CLOSE, then not. It almost didn’t happen, I honestly thought I’d lost her. That feeling was probably the worst pain I’ve ever felt. I wrote things like Christmas in a park, Telling a story, The world outside is burning… There were things she thought she couldn’t tell me, for months we barely talked, let alone fell asleep holding each other. The distance was bad, and I thought it permanent, but I had no idea why.

Jump ahead to where she tells me everything that kept us apart, jump to where she tells me she loves me, she doesn’t want to be without me any longer, she wants to be “us.” Jump back to where I’d started seeing someone else because being alone just hurt too much, jump to us being together for a month, jump to me leaving her and destroying her heart. I feel awful for hurting her. She said she loved me, and was nothing but good to me, but I couldn’t stay. I knew I belonged somewhere else, I couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore. I wanted to be good to her, to love her deeply, it just didn’t work. I think I was good to her, when I left I was just honest. Leaving wasn’t easy, I did have feelings for her, I told her so.

She didn’t take it so well, somewhere on tumblr there’s a blog partly dedicated to what a disgusting “womanizer” I am. Posts about how the stuff that comes out of the hole in my neck smells awful, how I suck because I’d never be able to open a car door for her, or cook dinner, or kiss her in certain places, then she gets really harsh. She basically put everything about me that scares me, everything I’m self-conscious about, into one nightmarish paragraph. She’s apologized and took a lot of it down. She said she wrote it specifically to hurt me because I hurt her, but she didn’t actually mean it. I understand that intellectually, and I still feel awful for hurting her the way I did, but what she wrote really fucked me up. I’ve been scared that when I kiss and touch, I’m a let-down, that a woman who’s with me is missing out on too much for me to be worth it. العاب تربح اموال حقيقية Monica says that just isn’t true, that she knows certain things with me are going to be different, but that’s okay, she loves me so much, but I’m scared anyway.

Jump ahead to right now. I know I’m in the right place, I’ve wanted to be here for so long.

So, I’m back from visiting the hospital for the last week. I picked up another sinus infection, that’s two in the last two decades, both in 2010. Go 2010, fuck yeah! 2010 has been a really fucked up year, but can I write about any of it, any part of it that Goddamn fuckin’ matters? No, of course not, not really. If I were really hardcore about transparency, really dedicated, I’d just write everything. I’d write it all and fuck the consequences. Write it all no matter what. Right? Or…

Is there a difference between “personal transparency” and something like… “interpersonal transparency?” I don’t have any problem writing about the thoughts in my head that pertain to me. That’s easy. No matter what happens, I have that covered. ماكينات القمار However, when it comes to writing about people in my life, those people and those relationships, and how they affect me, and how I affect them, and the way we’re all tied together, no. Apparently, I can’t.

The whole point of this blog is transparency. The fiction I write is okay and all, but I’m pretty sure that readers would much rather read posts full of bleeding edge, unflinching honesty about whatever’s in my head. بلاك جاك كازينو When I was lonely and introspective, that was easy. As things are right now, certain people dominate my thoughts, these people and the ways we affect each other, and the ways we’re all strung together. That’s what is most important in my life, but I can’t write it. The writing wouldn’t just affect me, I’d be dragging the people I love and care about most into my crazy transparency experiment. That doesn’t feel right.

So, if I’m being selective about the ways in which I’m being transparent, am I not being true to why I started this blog? قواعد لعبة البوكر Is transparency an all or nothing kind of commitment? Who the fuck knows? I don’t know. I need to think about this awhile.

I’ve never had this much trouble writing, at least, not since I started writing this blog. It’s a bad feeling, not being able to create, it’s frustrating. I know I can fix it, I know I can dig my way out if I try hard enough. I mean, ultimately, writing is the only thing I have that’s truly mine, I can’t quit. Whatever I write is what will be around when I go wherever I go after I quit breathing, it’ll be all that’s left. I want something left. So, this not being able to write nonsense has to stop.

I need to pull myself together. I need to write with complete abandon. My writing is about absolute honesty, I need to get back to that place. I need to write like Kurt, and Elliott, and Alanis, writing without safety nets. Otherwise, the writing is empty and meaningless.