The Feeling That Just Never Goes Away

I miss. I miss so much it’s hard to do certain things.

Despite the mess of the past four months I am feeling optimistic. Life is at a screeching halt yet I don’t seem to mind so much. Maybe because in a small way I am reliving someone else’s life. It’s hard to explain. But it gives me hope that things naturally just come together. I just have so many more questions about the past now than ever before. My level of understanding is different. I would have asked different questions.

I just want my life to come back together again.

Finally my blog is getting some use. My daily notes are going on it. It’s very helpful. Oh, this blog. I just don’t know what to do with it anymore. Some days I want to delete all my old posts, start anew, focus my posts on my current passions, and get rid of every last trace of my past. Some days I want to confess everything I feel. Despite all that, I just post fashion-related things even though my tumblr primarily serves that function. My brain is very confused and this blog gets pushed to the wayside.

Even though I am nobody in the grand scheme of the internet it’s also very tempting to get rid of my Twitter account. I’ve been tweeting since June 2007. Maybe it’s time to call it quits? Micro-blogging has ruined my ability to expand on my emotional issues, lol. I don’t even know why I post most of what I do on Twitter anyway. It’s not in any way useful to myself, to anyone. I should stick to my private twitter for those quick moments of desperation when I just need to blurt something.

J from Xanga, now on Tumblr… she’s sort of my internet inspiration. There’s hardly any trace of her on the internet. She’s this extremely vague semblance of a person. Everything she shares is so… personal, but at the same time 100% anonymous. I don’t know her and I doubt I ever will know her as more than a collection of very well-strung together words. The less you know, the more powerful her story is, to me.

I’m a private person even to my friends. Yet they give to me so readily. I can’t understand it. I mean. I love being the listener character. Most of the time I just feel like there’s very little to share. But in actuality there just isn’t anyone compelling me to share. There’s no one pulling my heartstrings, probing my mind for the answers. I suppose this is a solo adventure to self-discovery but boy it sure would be nice for someone to turn on a flashlight at the start of the road.

I think that’s what I am: the flashlight. I am able to SEE everyone else’s journey. But as a beam of light I am shrouded by darkness. I wonder sometimes if my friend’s feel bothered by my ability to see, to understand. Or maybe they consider it a breakthrough moment. I don’t know.

But christ, I just want someone to help me see what I cannot see inside the black abyss of my soul. <dramatic pause>

My one breakthrough moment came in Berlin. I don’t know if my friend realized how meaningful that moment felt to me. So many things clicked for me as I was crying on that couch in Berlin. That night alone was emotional for many of us. Maybe this is why I miss Berlin so much…

Ah, a 4.4 earthquake. I guess this signals the end of my post.

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