Some space

Basically, I'm writing this because untold amounts of relatives and friends thereof know about my original blog, which leads to considerable self-censorship. There's things I'm sure they're more comfortable not knowing about. Or I'm more comfortable. Of course, that begs the question of why I'm willing to tell strangers my thoughts, and not my parents.

I think it's because I'm willing to admit to the unknown that I'm not always happy, self-assured, noble, or pure. I doubt my parents think I'm these things all the time, but they have enough to worry about besides the fleeting impressions of their daughter.

So, there. I've rationalized it.

In other news, I want to love somebody. I'll deny that while at college, while traveling solo, and while trying to create a career, etc. I'll deny it while reading feminist literature or while developing my independence (whatever that means, when nearly all of human sociological history strains for the exact opposite). I also don't think this is the best state of mind for whenever I meet someone worth loving anyway. It's this exact drive that has made me beat several dead horses long past any sense of dignity on my part.

Is it an oxymoron to love wisely? How do I know when to let someone go? How do I know when to love someone else? I don't believe in any sort of magical fit, like there's only one or two people out there with which I'll be able to share some mystical bond. To me, it's always boiled down to the Game. And I've been trying to figure out the rules for years. I doubt there really are rules. It's like the psychological research where people were determined to figure out the rules of a computer program that was in fact completely random.

I haven't found love to be completely random. But it's definitely not predictable. Rather, it's infuriating, agonizing, and ultimately disappointing.

But I still want to love. Someone who makes me want to be a better person. And vice versa. Someone I know inside and out. Who would travel with me (because it's so tiresome going solo).

And I know friendship could do the same. At least, that's what I hear. Friendship is just as difficult as love, and there's nothing rewarding like sex for one's labors to have one. But that is the subject for a whole other bitter post.