i used to keep a journal...much like this. It was on a computer but not online. It was locked. It was the first time i discovered how freeing it is to write to the sounds of a clicking keyboard. It was when i found this voice that thinks almost as fast as i fill it. It is easier produced..less weary...less physical and more mental. Yes, sometimes it is good for the physical art of making script to be a part of the journaling process..but at times like this..when i don’t even know my own thoughts...the time it takes to get from head to hand through pen and onto paper in swoops and curls takes far too long and leaves one too much chance to eat the words instead.

Why do so many religions use flames, heat, and fiery colors within their worship? And music, too.
Why do i feel like sitting close to my space heater, burning incense, and watching a flame dance
while i listen to someone else sing songs which might tell me what to feel?


Am i going through an adult crisis of belief point? I don’t think so.
I mean...i do sometimes find myself pondering how strange we look at church doing our prayers and singing our praises to this creator whom to some seems absurd and made-up. I mean...wouldn’t it be horrible if the whole thing were a farce that everyone’s been lead to believe? What if we aren’t as certain as we say we are?
How do we make this look less absurd to them? right here its what everyone does...and its what youve always done...but someplace else you have to make a choice to be seen absurd.

I waste too many peoples time with my brain spews...i cant imagine that they really give a rip
anyway. ill just give them to you here, now. It feels less selfish and a little closer to actually praying...and somehow i think i need to get closer to that feeling again...since it used to be all i was about.

What am i here for?
Why am i feeling so dissettled?
Who or what am i waiting for? and where am i going next and how and when and what if it IS without my parents approval?

all i can think about lately is changing.
I’ve changed my hair multiple times. I have seriously considered changing my piercings. I got overly excited about what changes i could make for a Halloween costume. I’ve changed my speech patterns and habits. The other day i even noticed that my handwriting has sort of changed in the last few months. Im always looking for ways to change my room or how i spend my time in it..or what im reading or what time i get out of bed..what time i go to bed...what i eat.

What am i setting myself up for?
What kind of future am i readying for?
I can imagine so many things
I’ve already imagined a hundred careers and dreams for myself feeding from what i do and have done and enjoy and then seen them fade from my memory before they came to be and the one that i have now is half of what i always wanted and im sick of what its doing to me..at least tonight i am.

I remember saying “i know exactly what i am doing until may 17th 2003 and then its a huge blank” Well...i just kind of wish i could crawl backward into the other side of may 17 2003 and be that girl who knew exactly what she was doing. I don’t know what the bloody hello im doing and i don’t like it so much right now.

(end of stream of consiousness entry)