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Stranger

(Written last Wednesday.)

Antique_hand

I keep trying to express my feelings, but they only grow stranger. A tangled web of longing and horror, a three-fold reaction to my surroundings, my life and all that I am. It is such an intense thing I am feeling, oh, I wish I could get it out. I am stifled and too free at the same time. I am longing for the past, for darling dolls and being free and creative and to have life be so effortless. I long for that. I long for what wasn't real!

A new chapter in my life. I am at the very threshold. I am being driven to insanity by this long blank in which I can do nothing. I am not putting much more into our present home, because pretty soon we will do a thorough cleaning and be done with it, and I can't do anything for our future home except make curtains and placemats, but even as I do I am cautioned by experience that it is not our home yet, the place for which I am sewing, and something could happen.

In addition to impatience I have a real fear. I grew into apartment life out of dorm life, in which 80-90% of life is spent outside of the residence. I go to coffee shops to write or read. It's difficult to think of any other way, and yet soon, there will be no coffee shops, no bookstores close by. Once I would have scoffed at the minor detail, but now I feel afraid of how I will settle into country life.

I want to make a success of it. I want to make a journal for the home. I was thinking of it this afternoon. It will have to be a binder in which I can insert digital notes, because I take so many of those. I want to be a good homemaker, put some time aside every day to cook, clean or improve. I am afraid I can't live up to that.

I am afraid to let go of old things and old ways. There are things to which I cling that have no place in my life. Remnants of the past I should do without. Some of the things fade away on their own. Some of them resonate with me at odd times. A way I deal with it is to listen to Gackt, which is something special to me in its own right and reminds me of the beauty I once loved that will have no place in my future. I am going to a place that will not know of these things.

The hardest thing for me to release right now is beautiful Korean manhwa. I love the tall, haughty figures with long, long hair, which Josette embodied so completely. I tell myself that when I want to, I can look at Model in the bookstore, if I miss it so much, but I never do. I know the whole story after all. I can remember it so well. The sunlit field ending reminds me of Josette in River Legacy. Intense sunlight, woman with long hair and fingers. I added Dollmore updates to my blocked list a while ago. I would never have bought Josette if I hadn't been on the damned list anyway, and I have no way of communicating an unsubscribe to them.

This week has been Model week, Model manhwa and Dollmore Model. Why do I keep hoping there's going to be some place for it in my life when there never will be?

I try and look for some other form of beauty, but none is so intense. I can't deny the life-giving inspiration those memories give me. When I close off the memories and my feelings I feel like a black-swathed nun, and that life has nothing to offer me.

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