Friday, October 29, 2004

What the...

Once Upon A Time

There was a girl who thought blogs like these were idiotic.

After one sentence she grew irritated with writing in the third person.

A few hours ago I was at work, inwardly raging at a faceless suit. Someone without common sense (but probably a master's degree). Someone who thinks I can bend the laws of physics. I was frustrated with how long a task was taking me, with how tired I was, with how miserable I was. I was remembering when I had a life, when I had weekends and vacations and friends that I saw more than once a year. I was remembering Happy. I was remembering self-confidence. I was remembering when I knew what I wanted.

I stood over a pile of boxes and asked "Why am I doing this to myself?"

When I was younger, I wanted to make a living out of sitting in South Station for hours on end, observing and writing about strangers. I love strangers. In every time of crisis, while my (greatly beloved) friends have been comforting or wonderfully distracting, there has always been an unsuspecting stranger who has brought me merciful insight.

That is what I am hoping for now.

Selfishness bothers me, but ironically, that is exactly what this blog is. I am desperately hoping for a stranger who will read the (probable) tripe that I will be posting, and offer up some question, some statement, something that makes my brain quiver and reminds me what it is that I am supposed to be.

Or...maybe all I'll be doing is talking to myself.

That might help, too.

I'm going to shoot for one a week, but there may be weeks when I'll write five times, and then a month will go by with nothing. It will also depend on how critical of my own work I am being. Right now, for example, I am exhausted and it's nearly 1am, so this is probably rife with spelling and grammatical errors, but I don't give a shit.


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