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Not what I would have liked

Happy lunch, love, I am still here, and I am still capable of writing whatever I like.

I have so much to tell you, so much to say. Sometimes I think I am the same person as I was in 2003. There are definitely shades, but I have realized so much, and the shadows in myself as I see myself at the beginning of my journey are the beginning points from which I grew. The plain, tenacious part of me. That is the same.

I wish that I could talk about lovely things, but I find it is not a lovely day. I am fighting something again, I do not know what I am fighting. For weeks now I have been getting this feeling, ever so often that I am fighting. This weekend I received some great revelations about conflict.

I did not come into this world equipped to face conflict.

No, I want to tell you about another story. This is not a nice neat blog entry. It's choppy and hard to read. The only authentic thing I can give you is the reflection of my mind, and this is a mirror that will reflect it.

Once I am through the darkness, then there will be light. I can already sense it. I will be preoccupied with making my new stylesheet, which is my new self-challenge (I am using Mr. Moto template right now, can you believe it?).

I want to tell you an unremarkable story about my going to lunch at Panera, and having French onion soup and hot tea. I was positioned close to a large party at a table, and there were two or three older women who talked loudly, some older men, and a couple of women maybe around my age.

The older women talked loudly about some young girl crossing the window who was not wearing enough clothing for their liking, then they talked about emos and goths, and how they need to comb back their hair, then one praised her daughter's virtues and told everyone that she was 27.

I glanced up, met this girl's gaze, and in that moment there was so much ah... should I say cattiness? It is definitely how my cats treat each other. It said-- I dislike you, I am the opposite of you, but it also said, you are nothing, and I do not acknowledge you. And I thought, as I heard about how she had become a school teacher like the older women, that she had never deviated from what was expected of her.

How can you be happy as you are? I wanted to insist. It is against the laws of nature to become like older people. You coward.

My feelings were so immense. I knew it must be a shadow of myself that I saw, a self I obliterate, a self that haunts me like a Doppleganger in a dream. Like fate, when you rebel too much you do not escape your fate, you run straight into its arms.

And so today I feel like I am walking between two very tall concrete buildings, so tall I can barely see the sky, and I am having to walk sideways between them, and the concrete is scraping at me, and its difficult. That's how my mind feels today.

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