I keep saying to myself that I should make this blog more random, include more of my own drawings, photos from daily life, links, clippings from elsewhere but I never do. I wonder why.
Looking back in my archives, this time last year my mother's father, Old Weird Harold died, which had little impact on anything at all.
Last April I wrote something about having a dream and wanting to have someone who I could tell all my secrets to. Someone who had no prior knowledge of me, my reputation, my family, my friends, my town. I've always felt very pidgeonholed by what people expect of me. I'm very used to getting strange looks when I speak my mind or attempt to be myself, because people seem to think I'm a much different person.
Then strangely enough, last year around this time I got exactly what I asked for. Sometimes life works out in mysterious ways. Mysterious ways that conspire against all odds to keep me sane. There is no rational way to explain it so I won't bother.
I can't tell you how nice it is to start from scratch. It's not an opportunity you get often, especially not for me. Even the weirdest things to come out of your mouth are completely normal, because there's no reason for anyone to think anything different. All they know is what you tell them, what you've said in the past.
And yet even with that I can't seem to loosen up completely. I've been asked a certain simple question more than once now, and each time I put off answering because to me, it's not simple at all. The closest I got was a halfwritten email that is now sitting in my drafts collecting dust. By the time I had finished 1200 words or so, I could not stop the tears rolling down my cheeks and gave up. I cried for about half an hour and once I had stopped, I brushed my teeth in the dark so I wouldn't have to look at myself. But once in bed I cried for another two hours straight and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, only to get up in the morning looking like hell. So much so, that people at work pointed to my swollen eyelids and asked if I was contageous.
I guess I'll do it later.
Also around this time last year I had a heated debate with a classmate who I was unfortunately stuck doing a project on communication via the internet with. She insisted that communication via the internet was only good for the simple transmission of information, limited to the cold hard facts and could not possibly be used for anything more personal than that, and I was unable to agree with her. As a result, our project suffered because we didn't take a stance or make any sort of argument at all.
I still think, though, that any sort of interactive medium is to a great degree, what you make of it. That is, if people have the desire and the drive, they can overcome a lot of the limitations of any sort of technology. But what would I know? I'm most likely delusional.
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