September 11th, 2002

"we were going on a hike and needed something to pollute nature with."

I don't think I want to ever end up in a religious hospital ever again. Waiting in a quiet place is bad enough. Waiting in a quiet religious place.. even more double plus less most good. (I'd prefer to insert a visual like a sleight of hand here as well, but I guess I gotta go with the medium.)

"Hey, do you mind if some people talk about you behind your back?"

"Only if I can stab you in the face an equal number of times to my name being mentioned!" "Who, and why?"
  • Current Music
    Mindless Self Indulgence - Bitches

"But it has to be 100% secret, from everybody."

One of the things I enjoy about LJ is the ability to throw my words into a void. Anyone could read them, but they still remain private, because I am an anonymous entity. I could write anything. Spill everything. One at a time, in bunches, or in small groups of twos and threes. This was my mental and often emotional haven. Sanctuary. I didn't want to have to worry about what I said, to who, and when. I never wanted to worry about who may or may not be reading what. I loathe using Friends Only, simply because it castrates the otherwise open possibility, shuts out any sort of variable. Shuts me into a room, instead of a wide open space. I relished the ability in this medium to find each other accidentally, and start getting to know someone (and vice versa) simply because of what they write. Something you can't take advantage of if all the words are shut behind the List.

Now that's not possible. My so-called sanctuary has been breached for the second time (that I know of), and I feel in no way possible to continue being open, and anonymous. I'd make another name if this whole concept of needing to run away from what was mine didn't repulse me so. So instead I'm going underground. Maybe for a while, till anyone who might know my name forgets it. Maybe for good. Maybe until I work up to making another shelter. I hate to do this. But I refuse to allow myself to feel violated any more.

And yes, I know. I made my own bed the first time I said, "Here's my LJ name.."
  • Current Mood
    I feel sick.