Circa

Circa has the meaning of "sickle" (that is, the tool) in quenya.

Been one of those days... Well, actually not quite, but I keep having reminders that it could well be one. There's one thing that hasn't changed at all for a year, and to my frustration it's not really something I can do anything about. It's all about communication, but communication requires not only a transmitter or a receiver, but both.

I'm scruffy and comfy in my old, white sneakers again. Dear me but it's good for my feet and knees. Doesn't look very good, but it's either keep my body more or less healthy and make sure to walk far, or be pretty and feel it stiffen up. Plus, like Iwhy said - "Think about the butt!" The warm weather's making my fingers swollen, but I don't even bother telling people anymore. Let them forget and then be surprised when there comes a reminder.

Oh gods. The half-fingered, legless neighbour is at it again. KILL HIM. Noooow.... At least he hasn't started singing again, but I better close the door because that sweet, cloying smell wafting up from his apartment... yeah, right, incense.

What else? My normal brother has graduated, with all the partying and other normal stuff that goes with it. I really like his girl, she's living here over the summer. She's wicked intelligent and really nice. And me, I'm writing on my test. It is boring, so I'm typing here instead. Of course.

I haven't felt "oh, THAT person, it would be so nice to meet up and hang out with them!" for quite a while. I wish I felt that about someone. Sometimes I do, with Zaramis atm, but that's mainly because I want to larp more. But in general, no. It feels empty, but I know what emptied it and I try not to curse the people that should make me feel that way. Or should they?
Leading down from that train of thoughts is another, and it only ends in the old trust-issue-thing. I've got this thing that I keep telling myself, "And that I really KNOW." It's about feelings, of course, which are the worst of all. But then the small voice, the careful one, reminds me of how naive I am, and I don't want to get hurt again, so I start thinking, "crap, can I really trust my memories, how I discerned things? Shouldn't I ask, just to be sure?" But really, I shouldn't. It doesn't matter, the answer, I've got memories from at least a month's time that I know must be true.
...mustn't they?


Enough musing for now. I prayed for rain yesterday, and perhaps there will be, on Monday/Tuesday. Would be great. Life goes on, the mess in the apartment happens in waves and I wish I at least lived closer to Iwhy. Oh well. Time to send some messages to old acquaintances, anyway, who knows, I might get that feeling about them after a while?


Edit:
There are times of the day when you really have to give up. Definitely give up trying to read and understand stuff, and write serious academic stuff about stuff. That's about now, midnight.

Now, I rarely manage to keep my mind from wandering if there's an internet connection plugged in. And it is when it starts getting late, but not so late that it's dangerous and my mind wanders that direction, that I find the tidbits. Things I subconsciously remember, check up on, and find, ohoh, lookie here... Or just random things that are of interest. But I stopped trying to show them to others. I just... sort of did, less and less. I doubt people have noticed, but I am often on the verge, and then back away. I used to have less consideration for such things, but nowadays I can think, well, I think I know this person and think they will appreciate this or find it of interest... but do I, now? Or am I deluding myself again? Hadn't better, you know, not bother them? Yeah. Let's practice shutting up. I have this very nice little book now. Inspired by Maur, who always keeps a book for writing with him. Mine's of a different kind, but it helps me shut up. I wrote the italics above once, and have since, several times. Let's practice shutting up, let's say nothing. I've become better at it. It's been a goal for several years, to be honest. Stop bothering people - after all, it only works the way I expect it to inside my little box, and let's be honest, there's no one but me inside that box. I like to think that good comes of it. I had a period when I wasn't overbearing, but then I went too far. It kills me to bite my tongue sometimes, but that's the way it is. After all, if I don't say anything, I won't have to suffer the stares - "Uh... I don't get that at all..." "The idiot has spoken again" or "She just doesn't realise we're not interested".
I don't think people miss out on much, either. Like I said - inside my box...
I'm far, far too bad at gauging people's reactions, or knowing how they will react. I can never quite calculate correctly.


Still, this is worth a mention. I like Charles Stross, and his "The Atrocity Archives". Sci-fi, they call it, but it could well be fantasy set in the now. And his blog turned out to be quite an interesting read.
http://www.antipope.org/charlie/
There you go. Just look at the name, too.

*sigh* I was never cut out for social interaction, not even across the net. Maybe, ten years ago, I was. I can't remember letting things get to me so much then, or making such interesting mistakes.

But the little tidbits... People will sometimes write what they do not say. Puts things into an interesting perspective, it does. Of course, I am boldly counting that no one I know reads this blog nowadays. And if they do, they say nothing, so I don't know anything anyway. But of course, through yourself you know others and vice versa - I write things I do not say, and sometimes, that is because the written word was always mine. The spoken, not so much. The sung? Well, that is another matter.