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Mar. 20th, 2012 01:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressAs jazzfish puts it, "Because posting to DW is easy, even when other writing is hard, and because it's even easier when someone tells me what to post about."
It's like a meme!
"Comment to this post and I will list seven things I want you to talk about. They might make sense or they might be totally random. Then post that list, with your commentary, to your journal. Other people can get lists from you, and the meme merrily perpetuates itself."
College
It happened. Then it was done. I miss it, in the Avenue Q "I wish I could go back to college" sort of way, but I'm not really working towards grad school, and I continue to be glad that my life is still moving towards more freedom and not less.
I don't really have much else to say on the subject right now. *shrug*
Gifts
I have been trying to classify lately why precisely I balk at the thought of gifts most of the time, since it is too thorough to be just "I do not deserve nice things". I hope, anyways?
Terrapin (sir) has taken to explicitly saying "shut up" in conjunction with "I am buying you [dinner/entertainment/ice cream/whatever], to keep me from arguing with him. I am trying to be more gracious about accepting gifts, but at the same time, I still don't tend to want them. If you surprise me with something I have explicitly asked for (NTS, I have to get my pictures up but *still* the best thing), I will be hard-pressed to say no.
I think a lot of it is my intense need to be independent, which is almost as utterly pervasive as "I do not deserve nice things" when it comes to fundamental laws of me and how I work. I can't have freedom without being independent, and my freedom has always been a thing worth fighting for. If I am accepting your gifts, it is tying me to you. I know, I know, a gift does not mean I "owe" you anything, but...it's hard to get my mind past that knot. At the very least, I owe you gratitude and the ways that manifests can be just as taxing as monetary reciprocation.
Please don't give me things. Or do anyways, but make sure it is your own decision and not because you owe me. Postscript: I am much happier to receive hand-me-downs and things that you are getting out of the house, just as I try to make a point to get rid of things by giving them to people who will appreciate it (Oh! Pi's birthday present, thanks brain). Those cost you nothing, and gain you the benefit of not having them anymore, which makes me feel like you are not sacrificing on my account.
The act of writing
I have been saying a lot lately variations on "writing (noun and verb) is important", so it's interesting to have you distill it to only one of the parts of speech.
Writing (act/verb) is important to me. It's the way I learn best --in school, I rarely reread my notes, but I took *copious* amounts of them--, it's calming, it's certainly theraputic. I have realized recently that I am far more introspective than your average bear and writing ties nicely into that. When I am confused or concerned or hurt or scared or anxious, I can put words on a screen (or page, I am not picky) until I can link things together and start to make sense.
I think in the act of writing a lot of the time --I see, not just the words, but the formation of them and the formatting. I also think in pictures, a little bit, but it's largely the words, and when I'm actively thinking through a thought, it comes out as though I was typing it.
When I have had a span of time over, say, a week in which I have not been writing, I will realize this only by the deterioration of my general mood. The way to fix is to write, but sometimes it is hard to find (make) the time. One of the things I have started training into my partners is the fact that sometimes I will need to ignore them and write, and indeed, if I am fractured, they can help fix by ordering me to write. They largely have not started doing this, but it's okay, they will learn.
Much of my writing is on the keyoard, but not all. At work I write on the backs of receipts (and am unfortunately slow to get those typed up --I've owed Ria an essay since January, sorry love!). For much of my senior year of college, I was writing in cursive --partly to force my hand to remember, partly because I enjoyed the way it looked --and crucially, that it was harder for other people to read over my shoulder. If I really don't want them to read, I will write in my lasting cypher (as opposed to the one(s) I have abandoned), or on the computer, in a text file with white text on a white background.
Of course I created a cypher in high school. Didn't everyone? I call it Zombi, and it theoretically fits into the SorcyCanon, but in ways I've largely forgotten or ignored. Pi was commenting recently that a bunch of the characters appear to be stolen from Greek. That's an accident, but true.
Oh, I should mention also that writing on myself is a special subset of the act of writing. It is hugely calming when I am encountering certain tendencies, and I love the way that words look twisting on my flesh. If I have written words you can understand, in places you can see them, you are welcome to read. More often one of those criteria is not met.
~Sor
MOOP!
jazzfish puts it, "Because posting to DW is easy, even when other writing is hard, and because it's even easier when someone tells me what to post about."It's like a meme!
"Comment to this post and I will list seven things I want you to talk about. They might make sense or they might be totally random. Then post that list, with your commentary, to your journal. Other people can get lists from you, and the meme merrily perpetuates itself."
College
It happened. Then it was done. I miss it, in the Avenue Q "I wish I could go back to college" sort of way, but I'm not really working towards grad school, and I continue to be glad that my life is still moving towards more freedom and not less.
I don't really have much else to say on the subject right now. *shrug*
Gifts
I have been trying to classify lately why precisely I balk at the thought of gifts most of the time, since it is too thorough to be just "I do not deserve nice things". I hope, anyways?
Terrapin (sir) has taken to explicitly saying "shut up" in conjunction with "I am buying you [dinner/entertainment/ice cream/whatever], to keep me from arguing with him. I am trying to be more gracious about accepting gifts, but at the same time, I still don't tend to want them. If you surprise me with something I have explicitly asked for (NTS, I have to get my pictures up but *still* the best thing), I will be hard-pressed to say no.
I think a lot of it is my intense need to be independent, which is almost as utterly pervasive as "I do not deserve nice things" when it comes to fundamental laws of me and how I work. I can't have freedom without being independent, and my freedom has always been a thing worth fighting for. If I am accepting your gifts, it is tying me to you. I know, I know, a gift does not mean I "owe" you anything, but...it's hard to get my mind past that knot. At the very least, I owe you gratitude and the ways that manifests can be just as taxing as monetary reciprocation.
Please don't give me things. Or do anyways, but make sure it is your own decision and not because you owe me. Postscript: I am much happier to receive hand-me-downs and things that you are getting out of the house, just as I try to make a point to get rid of things by giving them to people who will appreciate it (Oh! Pi's birthday present, thanks brain). Those cost you nothing, and gain you the benefit of not having them anymore, which makes me feel like you are not sacrificing on my account.
The act of writing
I have been saying a lot lately variations on "writing (noun and verb) is important", so it's interesting to have you distill it to only one of the parts of speech.
Writing (act/verb) is important to me. It's the way I learn best --in school, I rarely reread my notes, but I took *copious* amounts of them--, it's calming, it's certainly theraputic. I have realized recently that I am far more introspective than your average bear and writing ties nicely into that. When I am confused or concerned or hurt or scared or anxious, I can put words on a screen (or page, I am not picky) until I can link things together and start to make sense.
I think in the act of writing a lot of the time --I see, not just the words, but the formation of them and the formatting. I also think in pictures, a little bit, but it's largely the words, and when I'm actively thinking through a thought, it comes out as though I was typing it.
When I have had a span of time over, say, a week in which I have not been writing, I will realize this only by the deterioration of my general mood. The way to fix is to write, but sometimes it is hard to find (make) the time. One of the things I have started training into my partners is the fact that sometimes I will need to ignore them and write, and indeed, if I am fractured, they can help fix by ordering me to write. They largely have not started doing this, but it's okay, they will learn.
Much of my writing is on the keyoard, but not all. At work I write on the backs of receipts (and am unfortunately slow to get those typed up --I've owed Ria an essay since January, sorry love!). For much of my senior year of college, I was writing in cursive --partly to force my hand to remember, partly because I enjoyed the way it looked --and crucially, that it was harder for other people to read over my shoulder. If I really don't want them to read, I will write in my lasting cypher (as opposed to the one(s) I have abandoned), or on the computer, in a text file with white text on a white background.
Of course I created a cypher in high school. Didn't everyone? I call it Zombi, and it theoretically fits into the SorcyCanon, but in ways I've largely forgotten or ignored. Pi was commenting recently that a bunch of the characters appear to be stolen from Greek. That's an accident, but true.
Oh, I should mention also that writing on myself is a special subset of the act of writing. It is hugely calming when I am encountering certain tendencies, and I love the way that words look twisting on my flesh. If I have written words you can understand, in places you can see them, you are welcome to read. More often one of those criteria is not met.
~Sor
MOOP!