(no subject)
Feb. 15th, 2005 08:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kleenexwomanValentine's Day was yesterday, as everybody fucking knows. They had a Women Empowerment dinner on the terrace. I put on some earrings and sat around and drank fizzy raspberry stuff and sulked.
At the end of the dinner, everyone was supposed to go around and say what they loved about themselves and who they loved best. Pretty much everyone said that they liked how strong and unique they were and that they loved either their family or God. I stammered through some kind of rant about how I liked my ability to write, then couldn't really think of who I should say I loved best. "I feel an obligatory guilt towards most of my family and connect best with people that I've never met in real life." So I said that I hadn't yet met the person I loved most, which is technically true.
Tammy was kind of right when she said that I don't know the meaning of love. I can't tell if I'm in love with someone or if I'm attracted to them or admire them or just like spending time around them or what. Everybody keeps offering me different definitions of love, and by each definition I'm in love with several different people, most of whom clearly don't feel the same way towards me. I reject the idea that "you just know," because I don't, and if I wait to "just know," then I'm never going to actually be in love with anyone. And I'd like to be in love with someone who I know is in love with me back, or at least likes having me around and is also willing to have sex with me. That might not be love, but it's probably as good as I'm going to get.
Had a discussion with a very nice girl about unrequited love. She said she could tell I was lesbian just by looking at me. Always thought that was a myth; I certainly can't tell, and when I do think someone is, it's usually wishful thinking. I don't think I've ever had anyone, male or female, hit on me. I suppose I could try being aggressive and asking someone out. Less socially acceptable, though. If I was guy, it wouldn't be a big deal to ask a girl out. However, when you are, in fact, a girl, there's a slight sense of "ick, girlsex" that tends to alienate people. And no matter what Ben says, it's not cute when I do it "because I'm a girl", it's still creepy when I do it because it's me.
I'm not sure how this leads to Rachel's Four-Month Reality Checkup, but there you go. Something Sheptoski likes to talk about is the influence of other people on our sense of reality, particularly people that aren't even around. He mentioned that some people take symbolic roles in our lives; their presence and ideas stay with us beyond their actual personality. In a less metaphorical sense, this manifests itself in something that I do a lot: imaginary conversations with real people.
Yes, I talk to people in my head. There are some people whose views I appreciate and respect enough to allow them to take symbolic roles in my thought process. I'd rather not say who they are because it would probably weird them out a little, but I have been working through some things about myself by mentally discussing them. The problem with this is that I sometimes forget that I haven't actually revealed certain things to certain people. I do confuse reality with my own imagination sometimes, and it frustrates the hell out of me when I do that. I suppose it's the danger of liking the inside of your own head best.
I don't like that I have to do this. It feels like I'm schizophrenic. But I don't get anywhere when I talk about it with myself, and sometimes other people just don't help.
At the end of the dinner, everyone was supposed to go around and say what they loved about themselves and who they loved best. Pretty much everyone said that they liked how strong and unique they were and that they loved either their family or God. I stammered through some kind of rant about how I liked my ability to write, then couldn't really think of who I should say I loved best. "I feel an obligatory guilt towards most of my family and connect best with people that I've never met in real life." So I said that I hadn't yet met the person I loved most, which is technically true.
Tammy was kind of right when she said that I don't know the meaning of love. I can't tell if I'm in love with someone or if I'm attracted to them or admire them or just like spending time around them or what. Everybody keeps offering me different definitions of love, and by each definition I'm in love with several different people, most of whom clearly don't feel the same way towards me. I reject the idea that "you just know," because I don't, and if I wait to "just know," then I'm never going to actually be in love with anyone. And I'd like to be in love with someone who I know is in love with me back, or at least likes having me around and is also willing to have sex with me. That might not be love, but it's probably as good as I'm going to get.
Had a discussion with a very nice girl about unrequited love. She said she could tell I was lesbian just by looking at me. Always thought that was a myth; I certainly can't tell, and when I do think someone is, it's usually wishful thinking. I don't think I've ever had anyone, male or female, hit on me. I suppose I could try being aggressive and asking someone out. Less socially acceptable, though. If I was guy, it wouldn't be a big deal to ask a girl out. However, when you are, in fact, a girl, there's a slight sense of "ick, girlsex" that tends to alienate people. And no matter what Ben says, it's not cute when I do it "because I'm a girl", it's still creepy when I do it because it's me.
I'm not sure how this leads to Rachel's Four-Month Reality Checkup, but there you go. Something Sheptoski likes to talk about is the influence of other people on our sense of reality, particularly people that aren't even around. He mentioned that some people take symbolic roles in our lives; their presence and ideas stay with us beyond their actual personality. In a less metaphorical sense, this manifests itself in something that I do a lot: imaginary conversations with real people.
Yes, I talk to people in my head. There are some people whose views I appreciate and respect enough to allow them to take symbolic roles in my thought process. I'd rather not say who they are because it would probably weird them out a little, but I have been working through some things about myself by mentally discussing them. The problem with this is that I sometimes forget that I haven't actually revealed certain things to certain people. I do confuse reality with my own imagination sometimes, and it frustrates the hell out of me when I do that. I suppose it's the danger of liking the inside of your own head best.
I don't like that I have to do this. It feels like I'm schizophrenic. But I don't get anywhere when I talk about it with myself, and sometimes other people just don't help.