2004-04-23 - 9:51 p.m.
I am feeling a bit toey. Towey? Some word I may have made up as well as spelled incorrectly.
General line of youth adrift, and no one I know seems happy with this, though we appear content enough except for random intervals.
I'm an embarrassment to feminism and all other movements which gave me rights and freedom and choice, because none of it really makes me happy at all, does it.
I'm happier with oppression really. Heteronormativity, the State, the perpetuation of culture-based gender stereotypes. Lines, even if they are not good lines, are so much more tolerable somehow. Because you know where you are within all of that, without necessarily liking it, rather than having very very little idea of where you are or even where you want to be.
And I honestly don't think I'll ever know. Don't know if I'll ever be able to look back and feel with certainty that I've made the right decision. And that's all lightly nauseating in it's own special way.
Crawl into the nearest cage just so I won't have to face the outside. This is something that tiny chunk of sane mind(I call him Mick; he is sensible but paranoid) worries may one day occur if I don't watch self. I feel like I have to be onguard with myself most of the time because if I lose control the consequences will be irreperable.
Nyargh. This is why I don't like counsellors... thinking occurs, and my thinking is like monopoly money, useful for the game inside my head but seriously unhelpful in the outside world.
On a note that's less ohhie-ohhie-i'm-so-introspective-wheeee, y'all should come see Thirrsty Merc tomorrow night at the Annandale; not only are they guaranteed to rock the house but superstar Shelley will be there and if you see a slutty girl nearby it's probably me. I swear I'm a nice girl but my outfits tend to conspire against me and catapult me right into a territory where I might as well be waving a banner that proclaims "skanks ahoy!" with an arrow pointing downwards.
After that long long sentence I have a headache. See you later alligator... and other assorted wildlife.
General line of youth adrift, and no one I know seems happy with this, though we appear content enough except for random intervals.
I'm an embarrassment to feminism and all other movements which gave me rights and freedom and choice, because none of it really makes me happy at all, does it.
I'm happier with oppression really. Heteronormativity, the State, the perpetuation of culture-based gender stereotypes. Lines, even if they are not good lines, are so much more tolerable somehow. Because you know where you are within all of that, without necessarily liking it, rather than having very very little idea of where you are or even where you want to be.
And I honestly don't think I'll ever know. Don't know if I'll ever be able to look back and feel with certainty that I've made the right decision. And that's all lightly nauseating in it's own special way.
Crawl into the nearest cage just so I won't have to face the outside. This is something that tiny chunk of sane mind(I call him Mick; he is sensible but paranoid) worries may one day occur if I don't watch self. I feel like I have to be onguard with myself most of the time because if I lose control the consequences will be irreperable.
Nyargh. This is why I don't like counsellors... thinking occurs, and my thinking is like monopoly money, useful for the game inside my head but seriously unhelpful in the outside world.
On a note that's less ohhie-ohhie-i'm-so-introspective-wheeee, y'all should come see Thirrsty Merc tomorrow night at the Annandale; not only are they guaranteed to rock the house but superstar Shelley will be there and if you see a slutty girl nearby it's probably me. I swear I'm a nice girl but my outfits tend to conspire against me and catapult me right into a territory where I might as well be waving a banner that proclaims "skanks ahoy!" with an arrow pointing downwards.
After that long long sentence I have a headache. See you later alligator... and other assorted wildlife.
