solitary_summer | Entries tagged with l/journaling

This? Is me being my usual lazy, disorganised self.

Because I'm really, really not much of an writer; I'd like to blame it on a lack of fluency in English, but I know I'd be even worse in German. Frankly it amazes me that I've managed to stick around on livejournal for (and where did that time go?) almost five years already; I've never managed to keep a paperjounal with any kind of regularity for anything close to that amount of time before I got tired of it. Even so, what I do most of the time is open the update page, start writing about one thing or the other--

(Parenthesis: I don't write particularly fluently either; a sentence here, half a sentence there, never mind about style & grammar for the moment, skip forward a bit because there's this other idea that I don't want to forget, back again, because there's something that needed to be added, and in the end, when I've got all the ideas at least roughly sketched out, they're basically a mess that I have to force into coherent sentences, paragraphs, a sequence that actually makes sense, edit, often think of something else to add in the process, spell-check, and read over several times more till I'm mostly satisfied.)

-- and then halfway through the process get bored, get tired, lose motivation, lose enthusiasm for the subject, find something shiny to distract me and just copy the whole thing to one of those yellow post-its, close the window ~~and forget about it~~. Um. When I bought the new computer one and a half years ago I went through an endless number of them, deleted or copied what ideas seemed worth saving to a text-document that of course I haven't looked at since. Thank god I didn't know that I could in fact have transferred them. And they're already accumulating again, personal thoughts, book reviews, tv reviews, Smallville, Doctor Who, Hornblower, etc., and so on.

All of which is of interest to precisely no one, but maybe if I make a very public resolution to go through and either post or delete them I'll actually do it? *sigh*

[Better come to an end, because we're definitely getting to *yawn*, what's that in the other browser window stage of things...]

So it's probably not really surprising that it was sometime past 2 am when I hit the 'save entry' button last night, after which I couldn't fall asleep for a while and woke up proportionally tired when the alarm rang about five hours later because I had a date for breakfast & movie with some people from work. We saw Les Temps Qui Changent, which was mostly okay-ish, if not exactly compelling. It does this French movie thing where almost nothing changes or is resolved throughout the movie (which no doubt is truer to life, but doesn't really appeal to me very much when it comes to movies and books), except they gave it a sort-of kind-of comparatively happy ending which I could have done without, because I found Depardieu's character's behaviour equally sad and creepy and don't really believe it should pay off in the end. And half-way through I got a little nauseous (Coffee for breakfast? Still not a good idea.), a lot tired, lost the concentration to even try to follow the French dialogue and mostly stuck to the subtitles.

Rest of the day was uneventful except that there seems to be something wrong with my bike again and emails I wanted to write were not written again, ~~which brings us full circle, and I think I'm going to bed now.~~

Current Music: John Barrowman, I Won't Send Roses

Hm. Once you decide that you don't have, or want to, go about mentally composing livejournal entries all the time, it's a slippery slope apparently, and a fast slide into inarticulateness.

It's not as if I don't do things any more, Monday (5th) I was in the Leopold Museum for the Walde exhibition & saw some Kolig and Schiele paintings I really loved, last Sunday I went to the MUMOK with Rikki (Wiener Aktionismus - still not exactly my thing, but interesting, and some modern photography exhibition), we sat in the cafe in the sun, talked about all kinds of things and generally passed a very pleasant afternoon, and I think I never mentioned the trip to the Schallaburg (Genghis Khan exhibition) with Manu, Rikki and Romana back in May (21st). This Thursday my sister and I went to the zoo to see the new Indian rhinos (hot, crowded, but still a nice morning; a white peacock accidentally landing in the polar bear enclosure, making a very narrow escape only - I've always thought that with polar bears one would be least likely to make the mistake of considering them oh-so-cute & cuddly because just they're safely behind bars and/or glass - kind of an easy mistake to make with a tiger sprawled on its back like a giant cat waiting to be petted -, because regardless of circumstances and surroundings, they do look like the predators they are, but it was still fascinating to see the bear move almost instantly from bored near-lethargy into predatory action the moment the bird tumbled into its territory), followed by lunch at the parents (relatively relaxed & drama-free).

[Disclaimer: I know zoos are evil and whatnot. I actually do have mixed feelings about them. I still enjoy going occasionally.]

Today I suffered through an intensely frustrating shopping trip (why do I even still bother...), and it really does say something about this summer's fashion that when I find a nice shirt that actually fits at H&M I immediately buy a second one. I'll skip the why-only-push-up-bras-and-g-strings-rant. Also, and probably as a result, bought dvds that I don't really need, because it isn't as if I don't still have dvds from my last shopping spree lying around unwatched; Velvet Goldmine, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Fight Club and Dune because they were cheap, and Smallville S4 because I'm dumb & a masochist.

Morning runs Monday and Friday

(And not to forget, Tuesday I had the gastroscopy, which was not exactly pleasant, since I heroically (or would that be masochistically) declined a sedative, but survivable. Slight inflammation, nothing bad, results from tissue samples back sometimes next week.)

(There's still the possibility that this is caused by bacteria, but I've started to suspect that my body (stomach, specifically) is giving me a message about how I should start treating it better and perhaps I really ought to pay attention for once; food has always been such a neurosis-ridden issue for me -- eating too much, idiotic crash diets, making myself throw up, guilt, comfort food followed by more guilt... I can't even remember a time where food was simply... food rather than something to feel guilty about in some way. Smaller, regular meals, taking time to prepare the food and eat would be a good idea for a change.)

So, things (boring things, granted) still happen, even if at the moment I'm sitting around lazily in a violet hippie type skirt and spaghetti strap top in my thankfully still quite cool flat, waiting for the predicted thunderstorm to arrive.

It's just that I feel the world doesn't immediately (or at all) need to be informed of this, or why I like Firefly and would have liked to see more and think that Mal is a fascinating character, although I guess I'll probably be posting about that at some point.

Posting pictures is so much easier these days.

Current Mood: lazy
Current Music: Sezen Aksu, Yaz Bitmeden

And after only two weeks, another morning run. /sarcasm.

It was good, though, and extremely beautiful, the park still very bare, the trees barely tinged with the lightest hue of green, although the buds of the chestnuts have already opened and the forsythia are flowering; the lawns are already looking more like spring, occasionally sprinkled with violets and primroses; everything still wet from last night's rain, bright and clean and crystal clear in the morning sunlight and the sky a very pure, washed out pale blue before the sun rose higher and new clouds began to form...

Strange. Sometimes I must talk, talk, talk (or write, as the case may be), I compose lj entries in my mind when I walk around, whereas at other times (like recently, hence the lack of updates) I just feel sort of burned out, deadly tired of the endless succession of words in my brain.

( Lengthy Sunday afternoon intro- & retrospective ramblings, for my own benefit mostly; caveat lector... )

...accompanied by another picture from yesterday.

Retrospection.

I've been reading through some of the first entries I made on deadjournal, almost four years ago, and, all in all, these years haven't been entirely wasted. I've come... perhaps not such a long way on objective standards, but a lot further than I'd ever believed possible then.

I'd really like to thank everyone who's been along for the journey so far. For your inspiration and support, for letting me into your lives, for just being there and listening. Thank you.

Current Music: Sezen Aksu, Rumeli Havasi

Sometimes (like [to?][yester?]night at 2 am, but I was slightly tipsy then and much too tired and to actually write a lj-entry about it) I wonder why I write in English, and how, if at all, it affects what I write and how I think. How I appear to others. At least part of the this journal's raison dêtre is communication, message in the bottle - here I am, this is who I am, look at me, notice me, like me! - and English obviously assures at least the possibility to be heard/read by a wider range of people. But it goes beyond that, even when I kept a private paper journal (rather irregularly) during my late teens, early twenties, I mostly wrote in English. I did make a couple of attempts to switch to German, but it always sounded rather stilted and somehow wrong. It is easier to say some things in English, smoother, maybe; less painful in some occasions. Would it go to far to say that it creates a shield, a distance from what I am, an emotional safety zone; not only towards the world, but also towards myself? Am I the same person in English that I would be in German? Is the language a facade? Or does it matter at all? Am I more myself, because I can say things that I perhaps wouldn't say, or not like that, in German?

Hm.

::ponders::

[ETA, ca. ten minutes later: I try to be honest on this journal, mostly for my own sake; I might omit a few things that are too personal and embarrassing, I suppress the occasional urge to rant about petty things - but then, the suppression is as much part of my personality as the initial urge - but to the best of my knowledge I've never consciously lied here. Still, I perceive myself as less awkward in English, cooler somehow, more interesting, perhaps. What to make of that?]

Livejournal is my very own psychiatrist's couch. The things you don't want to write - or think - about, but after a while, slowly, typing a sentence here and there, copying it back and forth from update page to notepad, they finally will come out. I'm convinced that over the past years there are a lot of things I'd never have thought through rationally, issues I'd never have addressed if it weren't for livejournal and its semi-public nature. There's a sense of obligation and motivation about it which I never found in a private paper journal. Perhaps it's that with an audience there come certain expectations, even if in all probability they exist only (or mostly) in my mind, not in the audience's; It's not that I don't ~~occasionally~~ often just whine & wallow, even here, but I also do feel compelled to do more than just that, if I can find the strength.

I've no idea if that's good or bad or ~~plain fucked up~~ somewhat weird, but it does seem to work...

Current Mood: thoughtful

Something needs to change. Maybe I need more private entries (a paper journal would be an option, but I actually prefer typing, it's neater, among other things, and I like to be able to go back and edit), but recently... I'm not happy with this as I used to be. I edit myself, don't be too needy, don't be too depressed, don't bother people too much with crap you have no right bothering them with, can't say this, can't say that, for fear of making a fool of myself, &c. and maybe that's normal socialisation finally kicking in at a rather late age, but I'm not happy with the results, I feel... a little fake, a little only half there, always being so careful with what image I create of myself. I'm not saying that this was never a concern, but it's been kind of taking over recently, switching entries from public to friends only to private, feeling stupid or guilty, being embarrassed, not finish writing entries because they aren't thought through and articulated enough, spellcheck and edit a dozen times. Perfectionism taking over even here.

When I started this journal (on deadjournal) it was about honesty, saying things I couldn't say elsewhere, articulating them outside my own mind. Turned out it helped me thinking things through, made them clearer, helped me work through some issues (I think). I need to go back to this again, on a less despair & depression ridden level, hopefully, but I need to be honest with myself, instead of constantly checking myself, not in any big ways, but in too many small ones.

::sigh::

::whine::

Not even enough energy/motivation to update... at one point, actually for a long time, it seemed important to keep track, to record emotions, if nothing else; now more often than not things just don't seem worth writing down, especially once I've already put off writing half a day or a day. It's a mirror I hold up to my life and I don't particularly care for what I see there...

Strange dreams this morning, one of them with TM in it. Very weird.

Feel like I might be coming down with a cold, but then again, I've been feeling like this for the last week. Thursday my right eye turned pink-ish after I'd fallen asleep with my contacts yet again, even though I should know better, but it seems to be almost all right again.

Bike's back tyre went flat... car, bike, what next?

Too much stupid tv watching.

This is the best chocolate ever. Quite indecently expensive, but so worth it... Finally I decided to buy a couple for myself rather than just for Christmas & other gifts, and the Weisse Schokolade mit Krokant tastes exactly like Vanillekipferln.

[ ETA more whining: Why is it still this cold when it's almost March? And what about all this snow? I want my morning runs back, but I don't have fortitude enough to face both the cold and the snow. ]

Current Mood: blah

::sigh::

... so much for dramatic gestures.

After posting the last entry it occurred to me if writing - and more precisely, public perusal of my writing - is so distinctly uncomfortable for reasons I cannot quite define, that might actually be a good reason to at least try continue doing it, instead of withdrawing into hiding & inarticulate wallowing.

More private entries, less personal stuff, in the future?

I'm not sure yet.

Words are not perfect, but what else do I have?

I'm tired of words, words that never fit, too many of them, ultimately void and meaningless; tired of listening to myself, tired of going through the same circles I thought I'd left behind...

And at this point my inadequacy makes me feel... embarrassed, ashamed; I'm no longer comfortable just pouring everything out like I used to do, without the least regard or concern for anyone reading this journal, which, I guess, might be a good thing? Learning some social skills at last?

This isn't supposed to be some grand dramatic good-bye post, though, because as likely as not I'll snap out of it, or adjust, or perhaps will have changed my mind by next week, but at the moment....

... writing is kind of painful.

Current Music: tool, H.

Grumpy, tired & in a foul mood for no apparent reason ever since I crawled out of bed at about 9:30, after more than ten hours of sleep. Maybe yesterday is catching up with me, though I didn't feel the stress then, and M.'s generally pissy mood was rather an enticement to remain balanced, strong and at least moderately cheerful. It'll pass... at the latest she'll snap out of it after Christmas. As a general rule I've decided not to let things I cannot change shake my equilibrium or really get at me; at least not things of the ultimately rather negligible importance of work-related issues.

[Stormy, I enjoyed unpacking the books with the wind whipping through the narrow street, tearing at my hair; an exhilarating touch of wilderness in the ordered city environment.]

However, I'm getting really, really sick of the weekly check-on-the-horse thing, when I can (and in all likelihood this won't change in the foreseeable future) do nothing but walk her, or maybe trot for a hundred meters or so. No canter, no real work on the dressage square, no nothing. On the other hand I'd be feeling (justifiably, I guess) guilty, if I should leave Ch. in the lurch now, but on the (third? well, there's always Zaphod Beeblebrox) hand, I'm at the end of my already severely strained patience.

Sunny, but with a cutting icy northern wind, and days like this I'm seriously playing with the thought (if that isn't a contradiction in terms) of moving to a more southern climate... Except that I can't really stand heat either. ::le sigh::

Days like this, a hard blue sky and the landscapes sharply edged and crystal clear in the sunlight... when I'm in a contrary mood to begin with, it tends to depress me, make me feel inadequate somehow; and after what

soavezefiretto said, I'll never be able to look up at such blue skies again and not think of the dark of the infinite universe stretching out beyond...

Strange, vivid and not quite erotic (love, not sex) dream about someone from school I haven't see or thought about in years and certainly never entertained a sexual thought about. Then there was a kind of theatre, ascending row of seats like in ancient greek theatres, and lots of snakes crawling out from under them, smaller ones, but really big ones, too... very strange. (Not nightmarish though, since I'm not afraid of snakes.)

Also recently my more sexual dreams (such as they are: infrequent as far as I remember and not spectacular) seem to be predominantly queer... not that I've got a problem with that (my main problem is connecting with people at all on some deeper emotional level; never mind sex or gender for the moment), but I don't quite know what to make of it, or what triggered it; I've been in a kind of asexual limbo for so long, it's such an abstract question, in a way....

[On a side-note - I dream in colour; I've never given it much thought, but since I came across someone mentioning the colour vs. black/white question I've tried to remember.]

soavezefiretto also made me think about language and journaling; the possibility of writing in German, which should come more naturally after all, and why I avoid it... Part of it, and I guess there's no use denying it, is a rather pathetic craving for attention; on one level this journal and its concerns are very personal, I'm not trying to create an image or a persona, but on an other level it also is a kind of message in a bottle. But my paper diary back in the day when my English was very much worse was rarely written in German, either ... I guess it might be a way of maintaining a certain emotional distance that makes it easier to talk about personal issues? Generally I tend to feel less clumsy, less awkward, expressing myself in English. Should I switch to German for a while just to see what happens, whether the German speaking me and the English speaking me are at all different?

DVD player has been moved over & plugged in, cable will be installed next Monday.

Current Mood: grumpy
Current Music: apc, emotive

Printing out my livejournal entries, something I've been wanting to do for a long time now, but put off again & again... when it comes right down to it, I'm an old-fashioned girl, I don't really trust in the certainty of the continued existence of something I cannot touch.

It's most likely out of all proportions self-centered and perhaps I would be in a better and more productive state of mind if I could be content with the results of the process and what memories naturally remain, and let go of the painful and embarrassing details of the journey, but for some reason I don't want to loose these years (yet)... I'm well aware that sometimes I often cling too hard and too long to the relics and souvenirs of my life, but so far I haven't found a way to wholly remedy that.

Current Music: printer noises

Is Christmas depression finally catching up with me?
Woke up in a very melancholy mood...

Sometimes I feel very alone. Not so much in the big ways - (:: shrugs ::) I've kind of got used to it and If I were to be honest more often than not I like it that way - but in small, stupid ways, like when I find myself picking up on aspects of things that no one else seems to notice or attach the same importance to as I do. Wanting to share something and finding no one who feels the same way; ending up posting a wordy lj entry that is as much self-assurance as message in a bottle. Sometimes it feels like I've constructed this elaborate universe for myself to live in and it's entirely subjective... and there's this lingering fear it might easily collapse again, because it's only a figment of my imagination, after all...

I don't even know why this should matter.

[After encountering your typical goth horror-obsessed Clive Barker fan (and nothing but that type) over and over on the internet I had this intense moment of, not even so much satisfaction, but reassurance and relief that I wasn't entirely imagining things, when I read this D.Winter's Clive Barker biography.]

Oh, and... this was not triggered by every one else's gushing over the RotK movie (even I am not that insecure), but my own reaction and criticism were rather symptomatic. I never really fit in anywhere, with any group. Not with the fangirls and not with the Tolkien nerds, for that matter. (Even during my Tolkien fan days I never made it through the Simarillion, because I couldn't really be bothered with the pseudo-mythology of a fictional universe.) And while I'm aware it's unrealistic hoping to find someone with whom you'll agree on everything (or even on most of the major points) - the whole soulmates kind of thing -, especially when you're not 18 any longer, but have lived your own life for more than a decade longer, going to places, some obscure or at least not exactly popular, collecting memories and experiences, still lacking a lot of others that might be considered prerequisite... sometimes there's just this irrational need I can't quite help.

Is there even a point to all this? I usually don't have a very strong sense of wanting to belong, but sometimes it catches me unaware... and yes, there's a world out there beyond the internet... but if it comes down to it, it's even harder meeting similar people there... ?

:: headdesk ::

( ...yet *another* thing I didn't like about the LotR movie-verse: Arwen... )

Will go my nerdy ways now & read a bit, then watch the next couple of B5 episodes.

Current Mood: melancholy
Current Music: rem, reveal

Hm. With regard to last entry - I'm really not so sure what exactly I was trying to prove there, or to whom.

On reconsideration it's even more pathetic to be always vaguely apologetic and embarrassed about watching (e.g.) Smallville and posting about it at rambling and analytical lengths in lj, that just outright saying that I occasionally really am intrigued by it - the better episodes happen to push a lot of my buttons.

Why am I apparently trying so hard to live up to some imaginary standards of intellectualism that just aren't... me, or at least not all of me, and blaming myself whenever i've fallen short of them in my mind? I guess it's mostly guilty conscience, because I do a lot less serious reading than I'd like to, but there's a good measure of general insecurity, too. Browsing through other people's journals I often catch myself wanting to be funny, intelligent, well-articulated, organised, philosophical, political, poetical & so on & so forth like them, and then I consciously need to remind myself that this is me, my way of thinking, of writing, for better or worse. Sometimes this helps, sometimes... not so much. But it's getting easier and maybe that's a good sign.

In some respects I'm still absolutely anal about my lj. Spell-check. Edit over and over. Have panic attacks about how I might have used a preposition wrong. Rush of embarrassment on discovering a typo or grammatical error only after my whole friends list has already read the entry and it's been on top of the page for days.

Part of it may be due to the whole non-native language factor, but I write like that in German, too, skipping back and forth between thoughts and random fragments of sentences, bits and pieces I re-arrange until they (hopefully) fall into some sort of pattern, rather than follow one thought through from beginning to end. My style wouldn't be any different if I wrote in German, maybe even more clumsy - it's been a long time since I've expressed personal thoughts and feelings in my native language. The content wouldn't be any different, either...

Welcome to the wonderful world of my livejournal neuroses.

Current Music: nin, still

too indecisive to update. or not to update. or what to... never mind.

3 am already...

sleep is a refuge.

sometimes i think all this will eventually make me a stronger person, because i know who i am, i've been to the dark places. fragility, yes, but at least i recognise it as such. no pretences, no lies. i won't be surprised again.

maybe. or maybe just another necessary delusion.

but then i might never find out... i always play it safe, never put myself to the test...

considered & discarded a rant about the current obsession with superficialities, but really, it was nothing all that original and probably a sign of cynicism & old age (:: cough ::) ...

i'd like to be able to post long, intelligent, opinionated pieces, but when i start pontificating about the state of the world it almost always feels too self-satisfied and somewhat insincere & i end up not posting or deleting...

still. on a personal level it may not matter much, but on a society level i think it harms us that we un-learn to accept and appreciate differences and instead believe things can be fixed so easily if you just tamper with the surface. i hate those supposedly ideal, blandly identical bodies and faces & personally wouldn't even want to touch anyone's silicone enhanced body parts. disgusting. :: shudders ::

[ /er, rant ]

Current Mood: dull, tired, not drunk enough
Current Music: placebo, black market music

er. note to self, the nth: if you don't know the first thing about how a computer actually works stick to installing exactly what and how they suggest you install. don't be creative. don't change options if you're not sure. i finally found out why i kept getting those error messages about quicktime player needing additional software but subsequently being unable to find it, when i downloaded pictures; why the computer kept telling me it couldn't open images, because the program they'd been created with was missing and would i chose another program; why i'd suddenly been unable to save jpgs from apple works. i thought maybe the new version of quicktime player wasn't compatible with OS 9, but no, the problem was that for some reason i can't remember i hadn't chosen the recommended version when i installed it and, thusly, no picture viewer & all kinds of problems...

:: facepalm ::

still typing the vacation entries... annoying and most likely totally pointless, but i want to remember where i've been, maybe how i felt about it... i used to think if i don't remember something it's not worth remembering anyway, but somehow i've gotten into the habit of journaling and it's rather addictive...

Current Mood: blah
Current Music: jj72

lj has gone all german on me. irritating.

hmpf. i can't seem to get comfortable in this place, metaphorically speaking. my dj is this dark, cosy, if slightly tacky, corner where a few people who've already seen me at my worst and don't seem to mind, will tolerantly listen to me rant & whine. this journal is rather like hearing your own voice echoing through some big and empty place, much more polished and formal and rather clinically clean. i feel slightly lost, if that's at all possible or rational, and more exposed, even if my counter tells me i'm not.

i thought i'd use this account for discussions, but really find myself still reluctant to post in other people's journals or even to friend the fanish journals i check regularly. for one i feel slightly stupid and unsure about the social niceties when barging into a community i'm not part of, for another thing i'd have to seriously give thought to what i can say in this journal and still be socially polite, how to say it... so far writing for an audience hasn't been a priority.

though i certainly seem to develop some kind of journal-related neurosis. posted and subsequently deleted entires on an iraqi boyband (not kidding) and the brainless display of vanity that is our minister of finance's personal homepage, complete with childhood pictures and the option to ask for an autographed card (again, not kidding, though i wish i were), because two entries in a row solely devoted to snarking at something seemed just... wrong. not good for karma, not that i really believe in that.

.:@:..:@:..:@.:.

yesterday's buffy... :: sigh :: i probably shouldn't enjoy that as much as i do, at least parts of it. (others, like the *gasp*, it's the Fist Evil ™ ! revelation, not so much,) Spike/Buffy is one of the few het relationships (if you can even call it a relationship) on tv that i find myself both interested in and actually caring about... they've certainly had some lovely moments during this season and the last.

although i still don't like the concept of a soul as a commodity that can be acquired and lost, forfeited and rewarded, even in a metaphorical sense, because even then it draws ethical lines i'm not really prepared to accept exist....

.:@:..:@:..:@.:.

::nostalgic :: i really need to talk my sister into going to see 'elisabeth' with me, when they revive it this autumn...

Current Mood: lazy
Current Music: elisabeth, 1995 vienna recording

now that i've got the account i'm not quite sure what to do with it... after all i already have a perfectly functionable journal, and if it's not the most glamorous place, well then, neither am i. the tacky gothiness and obscurity of deadjournal is rather fitting for me and my current state of mind. thoughts. whatever.

so, why?

for once, i'm tired of replying anonymously... not that i do it that often, but anyway... for another thing, there's the lure of a greater number of users, of maybe finding someone, maybe making friends... then again, unlikely. even if people approach me i tend to be too much of an either/or person for casual acquaintances.

(there's the spell check feature which dj lacks... )

i've briefly considered dividing the two journals in dark & positive, introspection & daily occurrences, but while that might be an interesting psychological experiment, it'd probably make both journals either dull or overly gloomy respectively. moreover, i prefer having all my thoughts, all of me in one place, so to speak.

i guess for the time being i'll mirror the other journal and see what happens, who, if anyone will turn up, if this journal will become more of a means of communication and social interaction than the other. modify it accordingly.

maybe this will the place where i'm allowed to compromise. friends only, private entries, things left unsaid for various reasons. the old journal will be what it's been for almost a year now, a place for a purely personal, antisocial brand of honesty...

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