Before I get too far into anything, a brief explanation on the title. For those of you old web nerds you probably recognize the slang term for “everything/nothing”. It is a general description for blogs, livejournal entries and messageboard posts that mean everything to the poster and nothing to the intended audience. Long ago, in a galaxy far away when the internet was inhabited by angst ridden teens and 20-somethings it became the electronic diary of sorts. The airing of grievances was a fairly common practice.
This is a five year anniversary of sorts. After graduating high school I headed out towards Pittsburgh and started on an adventure I won’t soon forget. I spent about an hour this evening reminiscing as I reviewed some of my old writing still posted on the internet. I thought about where I was in life five years ago and decided that although on the surface things appear quite different inside I feel very much the same. The past week has been filled with chain smoking and pensiveness. I haven’t had an alcohol since Sunday night and I’m proud of myself since I needed to dry out a bit. I don’t have any problems with alcohol abuse, but I recognize when I’m doing something because I feel like I need to instead of want to. That’s always a good time to stop for a bit.
I feel as though my relationship with myself has become more intimate and I’m much better at recognizing changes in my mood and behavior. I’ve felt strained the past few days, trying to prove that I’m no longer something I was only to discover that tigers don’t really change their stripes. The next stage will be an acceptance of how I am and over time I will grow to love and cherish these flaws as I have others in the past.
The holidays are never easy for me, especially when morale is as low as the funds. This year I seem especially apathetic and I’m making an effort to embrace the holiday spirit. I’ve been very scattered and find it increasingly difficult to take even 20 minutes to sit and write. I write little bits here and there throughout the day, but when I pull out the scraps of paper tucked in the deepest pouch of my purse they always seem to lose their magic. Again I’m trying to convince myself that a change of hair color or location is all I need to start again and feel more stable, but I’m not an idiot.
Before I turn in for the night, I leave you with a bit of old poetry written in October of 2004:
Dear Dan,
I find your use of avoidance
and silence
as a coping mechanism to be
(for lack of a better term)
irresponsible.
Months have past
and the memory of our
“youthful indiscretion”
remains, but it shouldn’t keep you
from at least saying,
“hi”.
I realize the chance
of our regaining the
friendship we had is
slim.
I think it would be nice, though
to refer to you as something
more than just a
close, personal
acquaintance.
If and when you decide
the coast is clear.
And the idea of
contacting me
becomes less of an idle threat
and more
of a pleasant notion…
Feel free to call.
I’m sure you’ve still got my number.
Somewhere.
