Tamino (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tamino) wrote,@ 2007-01-14 20:08:00 |
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I'm not feeling at home in my skin. I'm hoping that trying to write things down will help.
I've been trying to learn how to give the wolf a better place in my life -- all too often I stomp on its needs and persist in doing things in human ways, and then wonder why I'm unhappy. I need to stop doing that.
I went to bed really early today (at 6:30 PM) and couldn't sleep. I realized that I was going to bed early because I fundamentally wasn't happy in my skin, or in my apartment, and by "ending my turn early" I could skip to the next turn, skip to the next chapter, mark off one more notch in the "number of 24-hour periods survived" log book. This was not very wolfish. This was "I am a pinched-faced, unhappy human who lives in unhappiness-making ways and then wonders why he is unhappy" behavior.
(not to say that going to bed early is always that way... if you go to bed early with warmth and luxurious feelings in your heart, I think it's probably quite different)
My apartment is still uncomfortably full of *stuff*. I did one round of "put stuff up for free on the bay area furries list" a few months ago; I need to do another. But to do that, there's someone I have to get in touch with to reassure him that I'm not giving away *his* thing, but another thing exactly identical to it, and oh by the way, could I give yours back to you, also?
I had been procrastinating on getting in touch with that person. I have just now left a message with someone who can hopefully give me the email address of someone who can hopefully help me get in touch with the person. Fingers crossed. I'm hoping that once I get more of the extra stuff out of my apartment, that it will feel more like a place I can feel at home in.
I'm 27 years old. I am slowly being pickled in the acidic juice of my own loneliness. I don't like this.
I've been learning how to play songs like "Blowin' In The Wind", "Puff The Magic Dragon", etc. on the guitar, because I believe in the institution of people singing together. Pete Seeger. The Weavers. Joan Baez. Bob Dylan. All of those people sang songs that could be sung together, and enjoyed together. What I'm afraid of, though, is that I'll never get the chance to sing like that with anyone. It's not a particularly familiar form of bonding behavior, to people of my generation.
...
there's more to say, it just won't come out.
I've been trying to learn how to give the wolf a better place in my life -- all too often I stomp on its needs and persist in doing things in human ways, and then wonder why I'm unhappy. I need to stop doing that.
I went to bed really early today (at 6:30 PM) and couldn't sleep. I realized that I was going to bed early because I fundamentally wasn't happy in my skin, or in my apartment, and by "ending my turn early" I could skip to the next turn, skip to the next chapter, mark off one more notch in the "number of 24-hour periods survived" log book. This was not very wolfish. This was "I am a pinched-faced, unhappy human who lives in unhappiness-making ways and then wonders why he is unhappy" behavior.
(not to say that going to bed early is always that way... if you go to bed early with warmth and luxurious feelings in your heart, I think it's probably quite different)
My apartment is still uncomfortably full of *stuff*. I did one round of "put stuff up for free on the bay area furries list" a few months ago; I need to do another. But to do that, there's someone I have to get in touch with to reassure him that I'm not giving away *his* thing, but another thing exactly identical to it, and oh by the way, could I give yours back to you, also?
I had been procrastinating on getting in touch with that person. I have just now left a message with someone who can hopefully give me the email address of someone who can hopefully help me get in touch with the person. Fingers crossed. I'm hoping that once I get more of the extra stuff out of my apartment, that it will feel more like a place I can feel at home in.
I'm 27 years old. I am slowly being pickled in the acidic juice of my own loneliness. I don't like this.
I've been learning how to play songs like "Blowin' In The Wind", "Puff The Magic Dragon", etc. on the guitar, because I believe in the institution of people singing together. Pete Seeger. The Weavers. Joan Baez. Bob Dylan. All of those people sang songs that could be sung together, and enjoyed together. What I'm afraid of, though, is that I'll never get the chance to sing like that with anyone. It's not a particularly familiar form of bonding behavior, to people of my generation.
...
there's more to say, it just won't come out.
