Edit: Peter's not on Blogspot. I'm confused as to how I got that. Haha. *nervous laughter*
But Peter bought up valid, thoughtful points as to why he was transferring to a new journal of his own creation (not Blogspot. Sorry, Peter, I don't know how I confused the two). The list is as goes,
- The friend's system. It's flawed, it's everchanging, and sometimes it's full of people you really fucking dislike after a while. These people having access to private information you shared in confidence of a private blog.
- Having to over explain oneself to several friends about certain subjects over and over again, and getting into disagreements in the comments. It gets...tiring.
- Feeling wary to share personal information (politics, religion, orientation, etc.).
The last one I truly feel strongly about. I have actually ceased to discuss my beliefs on that blog, due to several arguments that have occurred on my defunct Martyred-peach LJ, and the current Kitschaster journal. I dislike having to prove myself to an audience. At least if I'm posting it here, I have the option of not replying to questions on any other forum, should you read it, and ask about it later. No. My journal stays neat, clean and tidy. I have the option of not respond to anything, and this is how I most prefer things.
There are other reasons. Greater reasons than the need to discuss my ever-growing love of things like Chaos Magick, Rosicrucian ideas, my growing dislike of our current government (very growing), and loving music most people seem to abhor.
I'm just getting sick of having a private, stagnant journal. At this current point, I love to write. I love to love to love to write. In my private journal, my friends already pretty much know what I'm about, and see changes daily. Which is cool. But I want to start talking about things that matter to me, and open up that forum to a public audience. Yes, I'm just another mindless blogger, throwing things into the void, and hoping a it breeds creation and discussion, I know. But at least I'm not doing it in under 140 characters, right? I hate Twitter. I love communication, but god how I despise Twitter. Yes, I own a Twitter.
Anyway, I feel as though journals are the blank wall onto which we scribble obscenities, vague notions of the world around us, fears, dreams, and the most gut-wrenching screams one could muster without Jason dragging his axe behind us. I've screamed for days straight at my LJ over worldly, mundane sufferings. My journal knows every unstable, insane, traumatic, heart-breaking piece of horridness I've endured. It also knows all of the awesome shit I've done and experienced with either the people I care about, or just the random things I used to do on my own. I totally used to go discovering things in Los Angeles. My mom is actually happy I'm stuck in bumfuck Thomasville without a metro transit system, because I can't climb on the bus, and get lost in the city.
But I digress from all of that above. Journals have new beginnings. Fresh, clean pages onto which we paint ourselves in hues, tones, and colors more vivid than the eyes can behold. At least I do/did. They have the middle times of support. They have an end. I feel, again, as though Kitschaster has no more forward motion, because it's got a heavy heart from the last three years.
2007 saw an emotionally masochistic road while dealing with my ex (then lover), where we ended by parting ways in December never to speak again.
2008 I quit my job at the beginning of the year to piece myself back together at the loss of my good friend/ex. I found new faces who kept me extremely sane, but I began to grow lackluster in music due to the intense depression from 2007. There was the trouble with moving, and the loss of my private space in the Fall. I kept myself busy on the bus, at work, or at school. I only saw home long enough to sleep. Also, my social life was decimated by the move to Reseda from West Hollywood, as I couldn't get home by bus after 12am.
2009 saw me back on the East Coast, in the near-rural South. My elation upon arrival was like a water balloon ready to burst. I was freed from the shackles of my mother's living room and the air mattress. I had my own room, and even better (or best?!) I was living with an awesome, awesome friend. And then certain main events unfolded, and the year was like one big, catastrophic train wreck. A wreck I could never look away from, because I was trapped in the middle cart with no windows or doors with everyone else. I raged hard. Over everything. Over everybody. And to my chagrin, they raged back in epic force. Erin is the height of that year, and has stuck with me since last May. Everything else will take years to fix, if I'm up to the task (or those involved). I want to, but I have fears, and there's nothing I hate more than getting my hopes up, just to have them dashed.
Ugh.
I could go on. I've go on for hours in my private LJ, and there's no reason to bring all of those memories to a new journal, with new memories, but not without its reminiscent posts. I blocked out so much for the last three years, and I probably can't move on with myself and my life without opening up a little bit. Especially with the weight loss goals, and the new things I'm learning, and materials I'm reading, and thoughts I'm having about my spirituality and ideas about how the ephemeral world works.
So I'll just stop here with the words. Oy.
Also, this is my public journal. I'll still write private things in Kitschaster, but I'll try to keep it mostly public. I need to get away from hiding my thoughts for a moment.
I think I think too much.
-shica
p.s. - i get to do some labeling/tagging now for each post. yippery-do!
p.p.s. - i have a sudden craving for jelly beans. cheap, dollar store jelly beans. hoshit.
