September 25, 2002 @ 5:44 p.m.
A fleeting(ish) moment of angst

Sometimes I have to be reminded to shut up and listen.

Actually, let me rephrase that; I can hear the sniggering of people who know me from here.

Often, I have to be reminded to shut up and listen.

I'm not really a natural observer; my head is in the clouds or I'm focusing on what's going on in my own little world. I'm not a good listener; too often I am, as the cliche goes, waiting for my turn to speak. Operating on some unconscious arrogance that what I have to say is vitally important and must be expressed nownowNOW!!

What this probably means is that I'll never be a really good writer, able to draw on observations to create something fantastic. I'm good at writing about myself and the things that work their way into my little world, but that's about it.

The listening and observing that I do happens through the layers of cotton wool and daydreams seperating me from the outside world. A lot gets caught up in the threads or lost in translation. I'm a good communicator when I'm communicating with people who are like me.

There's not a hell of a lot of people I feel are like me.

I'm not trying to tell you how unique and special I am (or how I just get more unique and more special the lower the lighting and the more drinks you have); I mean it in the sense that I live with strict Us vs. Them views, and I've never really learned how to interact with Them. Them makes up a larger category for me than most people seem to have, but then again that could just be all in my perception.

I've always either been or seen myself as being on the outer, socially and otherwise. I think when it started, I allowed others to place that position upon me, then accepted and grew into it until it was the only thing that felt natural. I don't know what it feels like to walk into a room full of people and not feel extremely uncomfortable and judged.

The outer becomes comfortable eventually. Sometimes you meet really excellent people there (but then I judge where I stand and where they stand, and come up lacking, standing further out).

The outer is protective if you let it be. "Hello. You and I both know that I am on the outer here. It unnerves you. But it comforts me. Because I'm not like you. And I don't want to be." There's a part of me that is still convinced that people hate me on sight, that little bit of victim mentality left over from highschool where I was not not not (there is such an obvious Tori (Precious) Amos (Things) reference here but I don't want to go completely high school on you, here.) whatever you were supposed to be. Was lacking. Found comfort in that lack and carried it around like a favourite wound (and still you know it's all about not being pretty enough and being too weird or too smart or not smart enough), carried it a couple of years out and right into university where I argue in class and make people laugh but don't get too close and keep drifting.

Right into a class full of people I don't like on a different campus from home, who I bitch and whinge about (with many real causes). And suddenly realise one day (today, what a coincidence) that the differences are not quite the abyss I've thought them to be. It's somewhat comforting.

Weird, but somewhat comforting.

Although I'm not sure where I go from here. Today's little bonding incident (of sorts) made me realise that I set my identity and to an extent my values on being on the outer of just about everything. I'm happy for the most part to think like that but am doubting the accuracy of that evaluation.

I've been thinking too much and feeling too low lately. I think subconsciously I realised I still have some Teen Angst vouchers to use up and only two months to use them up in. Next week I'll be inviting a bunch of people around to my house where we'll listen to heaps of Marilyn Manson, smoke a lot of dope and whine about how no one understands us and how we're so much deeper than everyone else.

It'll be swell.

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