Listening: PJ Harvey


haven't written here in a while, obviously. and I feel like I often come back when, for some reason, I can't bear to write over there. *points to livejournal*

Keeping my eyes on so many other things, and people, I haven't let myself pay attention to shifts inside me and today I don't know what is up or down, forward or back. I think I know who I used to be but I'm not sure if that still applies.

I don't know. I don't want to talk. But I do want to write. Strange. I generally feel I can't write at all online without imagining someone is watching, so much so it often tempers what I say and where/how I say it.

I can't get the idea out of my head so I can't commit to writing as if no one were looking and most perverse of all, I don't want to write if I don't have an audience (I have hard journal, that's completely different story, just accept that it doesn't apply here. Plus it's at home.)

Maybe I just don't want to be held accountable for the things that spill from me but I don't want to be silent. I keep having this image, this sort of sensation that there's a knife in my mouth and I have to bite down and hold still to keep it from falling out and slicing my tongue. I'm trying to think of the right word or phrase I can speak that won't be dangerous.

Maybe this is what I get for trying to be someone. I have to be an adult with adult thoughts and reactions and I get so exhausted trying to defend my idea of me...I just want to fold into myself and be Nobody.