Crowd Scene

21 03 2009

In the last years I have become good at standing back from the crowd. When I was younger and still not quite questioning the destructive of my temper or the hurt that my actions could cause both to myself and to others I would crash headlong into new friendships and adventures. Being solitary was my quiet time, my own time, but I partied hard and I pushed the boundaries at every given opportunity.

The last years however, maybe it is as I head towards 30, I have looked at myself more, where in earlier years I could pick myself up, brush myself down and just keep moving to the next crowed scene without taking blame on my own shoulders, its not so easy now.

I am much more aware of my own shortcomings, I am much more aware of the catastrophes I have caused.

I, despite my ramblings here, am not an isolated being, rather a solitary figure who passes through the crowd. I stand apart from the crowd because I never feel I fit in, which has meant that I have hundreds of mates all around the world but never a true best friend, never a group of people who I can call on to ground me, though that doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who think they know me, because there is. Many of them. they just don’t realise that they each know only one of my aspect of me, and rarely do they know the truth of me.

 Andrew, I think, finds me confusing. The shades of colours I bring to a day, the never quite knowing which side of me he is going to wake up too. He hears me laugh and thinks I am the funniest girl he has ever met, he hears me talk about my aspirations and feels confusion as to how they change all the time. He listens to how I talk about my past in such a matter of fact way and doesn’t realise how hard I have battled. I guess he thinks my life has been easy, because that’s the image I project. Sometimes when he sees me weak, when I am worrying about money or something going on with a member of my family or a friend far away, he tries so hard to reach me, to help me. That small shred of weakness makes him think that his masculinity is being redeemed, he feels like he is looking after me. But when I pull away just as quickly, when I just continue on, when that independence that has been mine for so long starts to show its head he is left feeling bemused.

Its like he has takes two steps towards me and three steps back and I feel sorry for him, I am not the girl he thought he had met. He saw me in bars and cafes with my ready smile and quite chatter for those who keep their distance, I am the drinking buddy who can chat to you all night, talk funny, talk deep, talk culture but when the party is over, I retreat back and he is trying so hard to find a way to figure out how my mind works. I guess I should be grateful for his strength of character, but mostly I feel guilt for his confusion. If I can’t even work myself out how can he expect too.

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Just Strange

2 03 2009

Things are strange for me right now, in one way I am the happiest I have been for a long time, in another way I feel like I am drowning in unknown waters. I have days when I wake up and look at my world and feel like the luckiest person there could be, I feel safe in this private world I seem to have created. But then other days, like today I feel trapped, I feel that by sharing my privacy, my complete life I am nailing my feet to the floor.

I want to write more, but my words are just not coming right now. my feelings are confused and muddled and I am uncertain as to what I really am thinking.

Life’s strange, and to someone like me, this whole trying to live a ‘normal’ life is strange.