MOOP!

So, there's this really damn interesting person known as rm who posts a lot about things I'm interested in, like sexuality and gender. Especially gender. Lots and lots of very awesome gender things.

One of the things I have gathered from reading all this is that, occasionally, he sees fit to dress himself up as Ianto, from Torchwood. Not as a cosplay, specifically, somuch as a "it's time for work, and today I would like to look nice and smooth and stylish like Ianto". I mean, as far as I can tell, of course --I don't know his exact motives in the action, merely that it is something he does sometimes, and completely rocks.

Rach may have Ianto days. I apparently have Middleman days. At some point, my brain ticked over into "goddamnit, Sorcy is a bit of an irresponsible twit, but MM is about the most steadfast and responsible person ever. Let's be him today, instead, and get stuff done!"

And so, after lunch when I came back to the room...


...I redressed myself accordingly.

It's a fantastic outfit. The whole thing is designed to feel solid, accomplished, good about myself. Those are grade A boots of butt kicking there, the cargo pants are designed for girls, with actual pockets, the belt is in the least known of "my colours", the button down shirt and tie are just professional, and the jacket is made pretty much entirely of win, some more win, a little bit of awesome, and even more win.¹

Oh, but of course, I'm leaving out my favourite part.



Hey, at least if I'm a tremendous dork, it's for one of the better organizations out there. (It's worth noting that I'm also wearing boy scout socks...also that sometime I should write an essay detailing my thoughts and feelings on GSUSA and BSA)

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Okay, and a tad "needs buttons" but whatever. I can fix that.

...Shit.

Crying sucks. *pouts* I hate this.

And no, I don't need to talk about it. Or rather, I do, and I have. So yes.

~Sor
MOOP!

And now, right before I turn off comments, and make this post avaliable to teh world, I'm forced to think about myself.
Never a pleasent task that is.
Oddly, I'm not thinking of that which is making me cry right now. I'm thinking of attention whoring, and wanting to be the star. Which really does happen to me a lot.

Take this post for instance. I don't want hugs, or sympathy, or lendings of ears. I'm specifically turning off comments so I don't have to deal with anyone saying anything that would just upset me. So why am I even posting this?

Logically, it's for the attention. Yet that attention which I need, I have been given in the form of conversations with those more intelligent then myself. I don't *want* attention from the rest of you, for one reason or another, mostly because I don't know you well enough, or I don't want you to know me that well.

And for all of those going "Shock and Awe! Kat doesn't trust me!!" don't feel bad. I don't trust a good 96% or so of the people I know. Not with myself, or my thoughts and feelings and emotions. Not with what lies Behind the Walls.

And yes, all of the people who I do tend to let further behind the walls ARE people I know online. This doesn't mean I don't like the rest of you well enough, I do, and I highly enjoy spending time with the most of you. But somehow, having that extra level of removal from the version of my world that exists in this reality, makes it easier for me to let you see me.

Perhaps this is because, even though I intend to meet all three of the people I've been confiding/ranting/bitching to, there is still at least some level of anonymity.

...Holy shit, I just spelled that right on the first try. Wow.

Right, right, back to what I was saying.

I don't know. I just really don't know. I'm a very private person, while I gladly (and ocassionally loudly) share my thoughts and ideas, I keep my feelings and emotions very hidden. I also tend to keep issues I'm having to myself, only asking for advice when I come to a total loss.

Could this be pride? It may be --it fit's the descriptions. I could very well be too prideful to ask for help, and that, paired with my own cynicsism could be a large part of why I tend not to trust people.

But what were we talking about at the start? Attention-whoring? Somewhere in my personal writings, there exists a sequence of words that, I believe reads, "I am an attention whore with stage fright." It is always a frustrating thing when I look back on myself and find that I'm being incredibly fucking RIGHT, and fitting whatever situation perfectly. I am, in fact an attention whore, I have known this for some time, and I try to realize when I'm being stupid for attention, which is never a good thing. And, although I don't believe stage fright is quite the right word at all, I DO avoid the spotlight. I hate being fawned over, which makes crying an absolute nightmare. Because people are good, and nice, and friendly, and because I have been good and nice and friendly to them, they feel obligated to come over and crowd around me and ask if I want to talk (which I generally don't) and if I'm alright (Which I'm sure as hell not, but I'm not going to tell you that). And really, when I get to the point where I'm crying, I reeeeeeeeeally don't want you to pay any attention whatsoever to me. I want you to ignore me, and do what you're doing, and let me find my happy spot and just melt back into the real world at my own sweet pace.

Did I ever tell you folk about the breakdown I had back in...October? It's what sparked a lot of things, including my getting therepy, and sequentially, my getting ADD testing and diagnosed with ADHD. It was...not a good thing. I was re-reading things I wrote while I was having it, and it is...scary. It's scary to remember the fact that, I really was caught in a thought-stream, and had NO FUCKING WAY OUT. The thoughts really were just too fast and too intense, and there was nothing I could cling to to pull myself out.

My saving grace with that one was that it was during a test. Yes, this did meant that I really only finished half of the timed essay, and had to make up the rest later, but it meant I *couldn't* have people fawning over me crazily. And I think that if I *had* had that, I would have snapped, and gone into full bitch mode, and possibly said some things that I would very much regret.

That might be part of the problem with my life. I get mad about as easily as anyone else, I figure, but unlike a lot of people, I really don't have any rational way to release my anger. Yes, I can try and play DDR if I'm at home (although Nik tends to invade) and I can always write and write and write, but in all truth, I don't think the latter really helps very much. It does less to clear the anger, and more to link it to everything else, like my mind links everything, and shut the anger away until the next time I need it. But I don't punch things, I don't scream, Alis won't let me bite my tongue or dig my nails into my palms or scratch up my arms (which were all things I used to do on a fairly regular basis until she came along...and theres a whole stream by itself) so I can't get rid of it through self-inflicted pain, and I always wind up feeling far too guilty to take it out on other people. So generally, when the emotions get to be too much, I wind up crying, writing in a notebook, or both.

And neither activity really condones having a lot of people standing around staring at me with worried looks on their faces and asking if I'm alright.

Also, I noted the other day that when I'm in an especially people-hating sour mood, I go very quiet. This is primarily to keep myself from yelling at people, and I figured it out by watching a friend, who was bitchy and WAS yelling at people. So really, if I go quiet on you and detach myself from the group, I probably really would prefer to be left alone.

*laughs bitterly* My own silly memories. Like bowling. To date, Eric is STILL the only person who has ever managed to figure out the above without my telling them. He's a good lad.

*thinks*

This turned out rather further then I suspected. I meant to discuss attention-whorism, and figure out what I could possibly gain by posting my above post. I still don't know, other then the fact that I HAVE gained a lovely bit of SoC (Stream of Conciousness)

It's odd, thinking about it. When it comes to writing, I think of myself as a fairly good fiction/fantasy writer. But when I write SoC, I find myself IMMENSELY more eloquent. I prefer the subject matter, perhaps? Or maybe I just write best when I really am in such a quiet mood. If life tells me right, I do recieve more, or better compliments on my SoC peices then my stories.

Somehow, that depresses me a little. Perhaps because this is never how I've seen myself when I've said I wanted to be a writer?

Another thing I've figured out, which I don't remember if I ever posted here, is a bit of mathmatical ratio type stuff. I figure that about 80 or so percent of my time, I am happy, or at the very least, indifferent on the positive side of the mood spectrum. I also figure that, out of all my emotional intensity, about 75 percent or so of it comes from or out of that 20 percent of the time where I'm *not* happy. Do negitive emotions just mean more, or do they just stick better? And I know I can get happiness highs, I've done it before, but it's much harder to remember them, and how they feel when I'm feeling negitive then it is to remember the low's I've hit when I'm feeling positive. Do I really just hate myself?

I feel so disjointed. No doubt that if I went back and actually read this peice, I would agree with the fact that I *am* being disjointed, and that I'm very much letting myself swirl about the thought-stream. Controlled though. I try to avoid letting myself be in it uncontrolled, the results are rarely pretty.

*sigh* I have to go babysit. In all truth, I only may or may not actually be around on AIM, and if I am,I only may or may not want to talk. So ta.

...And I turned comments back on. The first few lines though, the first post...that is not to be commented on. Alright?

~Sorcyress
MOOP!