Stationary Drifting

one more time for good measure

my grandma in 1972 - also my tumblr avatar

(from my tumblr – March 8, 2010)

I’m starting another blog. there. I said it so it must be true.

I have countless blogs currently riding the tides of the internet, 2 that I can remember (though I don’t remember their url’s or passwords), most likely more than that. I never really kept up with them though. Something about using an openly public space in order to journal made it seem like I was invading my own privacy.

I can’t kid myself any more though. I have all the ‘social networking’ tools now. I post my whereabouts, inner thoughts, external angst, and general lifestyle news to it constantly. Nothing I do it private anymore. I have more tools to tell people how I’m doing than I have things going on in my life.

so why add another blog to that?

because I need a reason to write again for absolutely no reason.

Grad school is killing the desire to come home and just write it out because that “I got shit to say dammit! what was the question?”. My creative mind is buckling under the pressure of being creative within heavy constraints. So I’m hoping that by starting a blog I’ll be able to liberate my thoughts rediscover why I love putting the proverbial pen to paper and letting loose. Maybe it will also help me overcome my fears of writing academically in the process. Either way I remember loving writing and I want it back.

because I wanna be able to write everything I want with no space constrictions, no followers, no friends and no comments.

140 characters is messed. I have no desire to constrain my thoughts to just enough words that people get the sense that I’m happy/sad/angsty/joyous/completely losing it without actually knowing the fullest of the full reason why. I’ve got lots more to say that 140 characters. I have pages and pages of poorly spelled, non-grammatical, barely thought-out, misinformed, IMPORTANT things to report. Take your 140 characters and tweet it to your followers. I need more space than that.

and while I’m on the topic of followers/friends. I love them all (well…most of them) I really do. I love that people care enough to see a posting of mine and call me up to see if I’m alright. I love the graffiti on the internet feel of scrawling a love note late at night for all (we’re friends with) to see. I really do. Makes a girl who moves around to much for her own good feel just a tiny bit connected without the overwhelming herself with emails to respond to. What I don’t love though, what I am bitter about, is the fact that I’ve started feeling my emotions through status updates. That scares me. I wanna let it all out and launch it into space without worrying how people are going to take it. I wanna screw some of my self-censoring and go all polyamourous with the internet. Love me if you want to, I’ll delete your comments if you don’t.

because my paper journal is collecting dust and I’m head over heals for my computer.

I care about my moleskin a lot. I have volumes and volumes of beat up black journals lining the shelves of my room. They have been my journals, rant space, recipe & address book, agenda, list/note/to do holder, life stenographer. The way I find things in them is by remembering where I was in life when I wrote that certain thing down. Those books and I go way back, we’re comfortable together. But I can’t help it. I finally got a mac a couple of years ago and I love it, I never want to be away. It’s a silly techno-crush but I can’t shake it.

So I’m taking my words to the computer and throwing them into the internet wind.

and that’s why I’m starting a(nother) blog.