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Back to the Present Redux

Now I know she knows this journal exists, in at least the abstract sense. I scribbled a note in someone else's journal before doing a nosedive into bed. The babe was on her computer, working on a website for a friend of a friend (a weaver), spotted me and asked about it before sleep set in.

In my own era of glasnost, I talked about it briefly. I worried as the what-ifs crept into my ear and ran rampant and screaming.

I'm not sure how much I want her to read this journal. True, there's some knowledge of me that she could get out of it, but there's also some knowledge of me she could get out of it. I'm more imperfect than the next man, I'm just a better actor. Liar, scoundrel, wastrel, thief ... I've been all of these and worse. But I made a life out of it for a while.

It seems to me like it would be a shock to the system. All this truth, so fast. The things I've done, the words I've said, the thoughts I've had and tried to quash. What really bothers me is how I'd take it ... watching her reading this would be like how Temptation Island offers to let the couples watch video of what the other is doing. I feel vile thinking about it. The worst is the minimal sense of time of all of this. This journal is written over time, but can be read continuously. Without applying that passage of time, I could be accused of a lot right now. Or at least more than I'm actually guilty of now.

I guess it's what I get for building up a house of glass. I didn't quite realize how thinly spread I'd be, or how much I'd have to cover.

I keep checking the skies.

- Pookah

Comments

( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
roaming
Jan. 23rd, 2001 01:34 pm (UTC)
Someone to watch over me
oh, I struggle with this all the time: who's reading my journal. I don't worry about those that I don't know because they look and don't post: out of sight, out of mind. But the ones who post. . . or whom I know read and know don't post. Yes, it changes the journal. Dammit.

OTOH. . . I think one has to make a commitment to being who you truly are, without editing for the readership. (With the obvious exception of editing something that might hurt others, or cause problems in their lives.) Authenticity is powerfully appealing. So is being true to who you are and not spin doctoring for a more positive effect. Even noting one's weaknesses is appealing if it's done the right way -- without wallowing, but taking a philosophical, let me be honest with myself so I can be honest with others approach.

I dunno. It's a snaggle. I like to remind myself that life expands and contracts depending on one's courage before I leap off that precipice. :-)

Rhiannon
pookah
Jan. 23rd, 2001 02:36 pm (UTC)
Re: Someone to watch over me
There an old song that subject brought up in my head. Part of the lyrics to "Golden Vision" by The Farm.

Anyway, my biggest struggle is that I already have posted things that could have bad impact on the wrong reader, or at least on their opinion of me. My girlfriend is one of those. She's aware of a few times I've lied, but there's been some (the bigger ones) that I've been able to keep buried.

For me, I can tune it out and write to the journal like she's not there ... but that's why I protected a couple of the entries, this one included.

So I'm really more concerned about the people I'm writing about. The flame has a journal. My girlfriend is journal-aware. Parts of this journal could, to quote yet another song: "lay waste to the hills of lies that seemed so solid yesterday."

Not exactly a great outcome for yours truly. I want to dismantle the facades I've had up for years. But I want to do it at my own pace, with as little impact as possible, and some of them, just through the passage of time, won't matter anymore.

That authenticity, that's what I want to reach in real life. I'm holding myself to it here in writing, because I'm finding it gets easier the more accustomed I become to being honest even when it hurts. I want to retire from being an expert spin doctor, but I'm not brave or jaded or stupid enough to do it by shooting my life in the back.

It's not easy.

So don't feel any need to edit on my account. You'd have to wreck me good to cast yourself in a less-than-favorable light to my eyes. At the very least, you're a good read, and you make me think. Good combination. =)

- Pookah
ekilon
Jan. 24th, 2001 04:54 pm (UTC)
hmm
While flipping through your pages, I noticed a lock... and that I could read the entry. Amazing. I'm befriended. I was tempted to comment... so I'm going to do it.

I make a habit of watching people. Or, rather, I have a habit of watching people. I don't think that I consciously said to myself one day, "Hey! Let's watch some people, why don't we?" And people talk to me for some reason. Not everyone. But some of them. And... as far as I can tell, the peoples' difference lies only in what they hide. Perhaps I'm horribly wrong... (crap, just using a substitute for "m"...)

Of course, it goes without saying that the world doesn't want to know everything about you or me.
pookah
Jan. 25th, 2001 01:48 pm (UTC)
Re: hmm
I hide plenty, no doubt about that. Some of the things I've hidden are for my own safety. Some out of fear of retribution, some out of fear of discovery, some out of fear of dispelling the myths I've worked hard to propagate.

Peoplewatching is an entertaining hobby and one I practice myself on occasion. But I used to never feel comfortable if I attracted too much attention myself. In more than one sense of the word, I spook easy.

Still, I've become a lot more social over the past six years or so. Every friend or group of friends had different expectations, and I usually gave them whatever they were looking for. Smoke and mirrors, but it got good responses and I enjoyed it, too. It's a luxury reserverd for those with few friends. The wider a variety of people I knew and hung around with, the wider the gap between their expectations, and the more difficult it was to maintain "perfect" personalities around each of my friends and family members. Just about everybody had a different concept of me. Still do.

Whether or not everybody has something to hide, I do, and enough that it's a problem. I care too much about the opinions of the people involved to just drop the charades and see who I settle out to be. That'd bother me. I'd rather test out different combinations, different pieces, and see where I can bring common threads together. I've got some serious weaving to do, but I'm making headway.

The world may not want to know everything about you or me, but I've got a couple specific opinions in mind that concern me. It's like soul-laundering. I don't want to give up the slightly ill-gotten gains, but I'd rather not take the chance at keeping up the act forever.

And feel free to comment. I don't mind the chat, if you don't mind the chatter. I can ramble with the worst of them.

- Pookah
ekilon
Jan. 27th, 2001 06:33 pm (UTC)
re-occurance
I took some time out from the dance to talk. Y'know... when your legs start to hurt and you're tired of wandering around the floor looking for a lil' circle that you fit into, you wander out of there and get hooked into a trip to the water-fountain... then notice someone sitting with their notebook all alone...

and talk.

This particular boy was bothered by the general people-massness. The people in groups... he found them to be arrogant and close-minded. Singularly, they were ok, apparently... or, at least, he talked to me. I was reminded of my conversations with various other people... including you. Y've given me material to use when... discussing. Thanks.

The problem with the hiding method (oh, I practice it myself, no fear) is that the people compare notes sometimes. And... you can be with different combinations of people.

Attention-attraction is a favourite hobby of mine. I'm a performer... or maybe just an adolescent. Why don't you enjoy?

Performance and changing. I think that perhaps (drats, substitutes again...) I do ACTUALLY change to be a different person with whomever I'm with... or the combination of people. Whatever. Is the total of me a studious student type? Or... a wild grinder? Or an anti-social glarer? And if you add them together with all the other mes, do you get me? I defined... soul... with someone once. Several someones. As the sum total of your interactions with other people.

Then we spent time arguing about whether or not you can live without interaction.

Yeah, the world doesn't want to be naked...
pookah
Jan. 29th, 2001 12:22 pm (UTC)
Material Things
I don't think I've given anyone material before. Or at least I haven't been aware of it.

But my issue with the comparing of notes among separate audiences is based on just how far I go with my performances. It's the things I promise, or that are expected of me, and then to be able to just ignore that on the spur of the moment later ... sometimes I do what I can when I can and expect to get away with it. It's that the gap between extremes is greater than I ever expected it would get. It's the fact that my word isn't always worth what I wish it was.

It's my own actions and ability to avoid responsibility that made me question it all. Like a Thomas Crown Affair kind of deal, I would relish such a challenge. There are things that I have completely gotten away with, but it's not a talent whose ownership inspires trust. There are times I can use that knack to "good" ends, and other times I've sold out good ends. Trust is something I've come to value. But as I've said, I can be thrown pretty far.

So, what did you use for material?

And the world may not want to be naked, but even turtles would climb out of their shells once a year if they could do so.

- Pookah
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )

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