The point of blogging and other things.

Why here and not a Livejournal-like service where you can make things private?

No one who reads this knows who I am unless I choose. So writing such things publically doesn’t do me any harm.

The point of writing it at all? To get the stuff inside out, mostly. And in a small way, to immortalize myself, to somehow make myself significant in some way. Here are my thoughts. I have shared them. I have contributed something to the world.

Or something like that.

I will be twenty-five in 29 days from today.

All I can do is try to keep myself together. And I mean me, myself and I. Lin and Fihelin and Fihel. Me. Together.

It’s hard.

I don’t think this is seasonal anything, because this pressure started sometime back in summer. And summer is supposed to be a happy season, and if it started there and continues to winter, it’s not seasonal.

It’s a little bit frightening.

Lone wolves don’t live very long. Humans don’t either. Sharing is an integral part of being a wolf. Also of being a human.

I think that’s why Lin and I aren’t quite enough. There’s two, but not quite two, and a need for more. And when there is no more, that’s when things are hard.

But…I know we’ll figure it out.

Burned Out

This morning, I had a terrible dream.

I’ll just say that in said dream, a (biologically) close family member assaulted me in a way that when I woke up, I felt sick and filthy and took a long, burning hot shower.

Said family member has never done this in real life, one should note. But the dream was enough that I’ve felt very off all day long.

I have been very off lately in general, though. Not just this morning, but for a while now.

This weekend, I am going on a small sebatical. I am not going to have the internet. I will have my phone off. I will not try to contact anyone. I will not worry about one else but me.

I think this will be good for me. I hope so. The way my stomach has been lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if I got an ulcer. I really would rather not have one.

There are lines in my forehead, and one starting along the groove between my nose and the corner of my mouth. Whatever that’s called.

I’m too young to feel like this.