No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-06-21 - 7:38 p.m.

internet connection

hey. hi there.

big update day for me. sue me.

another voice message from K. i'm alternately very encouraged and frightened stiff. she's a good egg, though. i can at least count on her treating me with respect.

more than i can say for some.

it seems that someone is reading my journal. i even got an entry in my guestbook. many thanks.

it's kind of funny how much i was hoping that someone was reading. i guess i use this journal to air out my insecurities. it helps to know that someone out there can understand them.

i think this is why i so love lisa loeb's music. way back in the day when DevilGirl dumped me and i thought the world would end, i listened to tails every night for a month.

"do you sleep" was my anthem. i can't even tell you.

the thing about it was that i could listen to those words and think to myself "someone out there knows how i feel, someone understands what i'm going through, someone else has gone through this."

in a way, the comfort of strangers is better than that of friends and family. those who know you sometimes know you too well. they understand other parts of you, and maybe don't focus on the things that are hurting you.

or they know your strengths, they know you'll get through it, even when you yourself doubt that you will.

your friends and family are obliged to support you, and to at least try to empathize. that's what they're for.

but when a stranger sees what you're feeling and gets it, it's so much more validating.

if i call up mom and tell her what's bugging me she'll commiserate, and try to encourage me. but will she get it? i don't know.

then i got a message from bluelights saying what i wrote struck a chord, well i can't doubt that it did. we've never met, but someone from halfway across the country understands where i am.

hell, i feel like a whiner after reading her journal today. i'm complaining because nothing's happening. she's got a lot more going on right now.

the amazing thing is this feeling of connection, of community. someone i don't know sees my innermost thoughts, my bitterest bile, my most shameful self-recriminations. and instead of reprimanding me for self-indulgence (which i deserve), or giving me empty platitudes about fish and sea and all that bullsh*t, or perhaps worst of all ignoring me. she says to me "yeah. i get it."

and i don't even know what to say.

except thanks.

that's the power of the internet right there, my chilluns. sometimes it's a power to be reckoned with.

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