Sunday, April the 8th, 2007

Yes, I could have loaded the dishwasher and forgotten to turn it on.
No, I didn’t “Not turn it on to spite you.” Perhaps I’m just scatterbrained?

One thing that women—including moms—don’t understand is that it’s not always about something specific. And more importantly, it’s not always about them. Another person could just like or dislike or love or hate or whatever them purely independent of who they are as a person. Really, they can.

I don’t have reasons for feeling a certain way, or not, toward anyone. I just do. That’s why they’re called feelings and if they were as rational as thoughts, then I’d have clear, valid reasons. Don’t you think?

I wish the world would let me be. Let me feel like I want to feel, whatever that might mean. I just want to feel unconstricted. I don’t want another’s life intimately tied to my emotions or thoughts or decisions; that’s just too much pressure. Is that so wrong?

I feel backed into a corner. I feel trapped and choked. There, I said it.

It’s hilarious (actually, it’s not at all) how I’ve even become so troubled about saying anything here for fear of who I would inadvertently hurt. Between the stalkers, friends, relatives, lovers, exs… it becomes too hard to actually form, let alone express, a real sentiment. I long for a time when this was an untethered forum, where I could speak my mind. Where I could yell and scream and curse and no one would know.

Who am I kidding? I long for a time when I wouldn’t need to yell or scream or curse.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Lacking space” from actuality.log. Visit to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

3 Responses to “Lacking space”

  1. Michelle says:

    General Rule of Blogging: If you can’t or won’t say it to their face, don’t put it on the Internet.

    However, there’s always LiveJournal. ;) Nothing like being able to be anonymous when you need to vent your spleen. Or in my case, post fandom graphics.

  2. pundit says:

    The thing is, I am not saying anything to anyone. People seem to have a penchant for interpreting things in whatever way they choose, and wind up hurting themselves.

    If I were to think of an analog in real life, it’s like I vented into a little diary somewhere. Then someone discovers it and decides to go ahead and read it. And then gets upset by what they see.

  3. Michelle says:

    Oh. Well in that case, they do it to themselves so they asked for it.

    I’m so mean. ;)

8,941,250 people conned into wasting their bandwidth.