I never realized I had become that girl.
That elusive girl, the one that's always slightly out of reach. I don't know what it is about me that makes me so detached from taking phone calls, and makes me slow to answer emails, blog comments, texts. Sometimes I don't know what to say when people are so kind. Sometimes it's hard to acknowledge that people even read this, because thinking of it gives me writer's block.
Since I was 18 I haven't stayed in one place. I've always been moving, just when I seem to get settled somewhere. Nothing has ever felt right. I always tell myself that I can be a
(This was written on 7/27/10)
Are you a lister?
1 year ago
3 comments:
I think, and this is presumptuous of me to say, that at this point, we're meant to be moving... we not as in everyone, but we as in perhaps you & I, different but not separate... we're finding our homes now... or more like, we're searching for our home. it takes some different gloves, some different fits to get used to...
I always love hearing from you, but don't feel pressured to reply to things if you don't want to.
oh, also...
that's why I don't feel like keeping a public journal anymore, I don't want to write for readers, I want to write for me. at the same time, sometimes I wish I could share (the spirit/culture of the internet, eh?) certain things...
haha. that was me. blogger is effing up. I can't put in my name. o_o
-sui
Post a Comment