I have aquired a new set of icons. These all go out with credit to Lidi. I almost concidered a sponsered account to use more than six. I also concidered using a picture of my namesake as a default icon, but thought better of it.
Its amazing how expressive one picture can be, and what emotions we can associate with different objects.
- Tracy Tupman
A once recurring theme in dreams has recently returned. Where I used to take comfort in the familiar setting of my nighttime consciousness, it now worries me.
According to the dream dictionary I used to use so religiously, back in the day when I remembered every detail so vividly, my life is 'moving along a set track'. Since I moved out of home, my dreams are remembered less, and leave very little feeling the next day. Of course there are a few exceptions, but as a whole I have moved on. So why return now? Twice in a month now I have found myself in this setting, a familiarity, despite the differences and variations from its real life counterpart. To still know every route, even the dreamt up ones that don't exist. To have super-imposed it once onto my current location, and another time returned 'home' to its natural habitat.
It disturbs me now. Where I took comfort in its meaning, I now wonder where this track is taking me. Is it a good path? How did I veer off it for so long, and whats set me straight again? Meaning aside, does this mean my mind is in the same state it was for most of my childhood and any thoughts of growing, and maturing are simply that-thoughts?
But there is still comfort to be had in returning to a place that reminds one of a simpler, more innocent time.
Last night after slamming the door in my frustrations face, yelling at the dog and finally crawling into bed, i received a message. "I feel so alone, And I'm s'posed to be the one with friends all around me. Know what i mean?" I did know what she meant, for while, yes, the person who sent this message is closer to their home than I, and yes, I have been feeling rather misplaced and forgotten by all my friends here, I too am supposedly surrounded by friends.
I went to Uni today with this message on my mind. I Passed by 'frustrations' hall, glancing into the carpark to locate his car. Outside my first lecture, I talked to a rather friendly, cute postgrad, and took my seat, where I was promptly joined by two other girls. As an older class member walked in, she smiled at me. Yet this did not matter, for one person, who I was once close to, ignored me, and all feelings of popularity came crashing down. Ofcourse, I smile, and pretend I don't care. Its always the same. Maybe not so much him anymore. These days, my self worth and emotions are governed by the frustration in my life- the boy, but thats not the point of this tale.
On my way home from the library, I passed someone who is part of the social circle in which I mingle. She was upset, because in a partnered exersize, everyone had left her out, and she would have to do the experiment alone. I, having already completed this part of the assignment, knew how she felt, as last time, it was I who was left out. I volunteered to keep her company while she collected her data, and continued on my way home. Could it be, that like I, she felt alone and rejecte by those she concidered friends? That she was as insecure as I was? As alone as I felt, and the sender of the before mentioned text message, felt in a group of so-called friends? That despite people constantly acting thrilled to see her, and the attention she gets, she can't see anything but a mis-fit?
Its amusing how alike we can all be, pretending that we aren't like anybody else at all.
The problem with having multiple journals is that one forgets to update them all. Indeed, when faced with the suggestion to start a brutally honest journal, Bridget-Jones style under a pseudonym, my thoughts strayed to this journal. It then took me three attempts to log in.
I recently read Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding and found it to be an amusing read which struck a little close to home. Those around me may even remember my stating that I was in fact envious of Bridget Jones because her love and social life were better than mine.
Its amazing what lengths we will go to in avoiding the inevitable. I know that I have a paper due tomorrow, which has not yet been started. I know it is quarter to ten at night. I know that this paper must be started in order to be handed in on time. And yet, the knowledge that I have not yet handed in a paper late, combined with the knowledge that I always leave things to the last minute and still acheive a decent mark leaves me with no doubt that the work will get done, handed in and atleast a pass mark achieved. However the means of getting to this point will leave me tired, somewhat jittery, stressed and probably grumpy. Ce la Vie.
So I sit here, at 9.40pm Sunday night, continuing to find more amusing things to do than yet another university paper, such as revisiting a old forum which branched off a forum I frequented, way back when.
Discussing 'other journals' with a friend, teasing him a little before I cave in, and give him a link to this secret of mine.
Updating this journal semi-decently, as opposed to the one line 'GAHHHH ASSIGNMENT STILL NOT DONE' update that my regular journal would have received.
Too bad nobody ever reads this journal.
"can I ask what could be perceived as a random question?"
"Whats going on between us?"
"I just figured it was like last summer..."
"Oh. I just wasn't sure, Like... It almost seems that you didn't want to be with me now"
"I think my feelings have changed since last summer. I thought it'd be the same, but now i'm not sure, I like you and all still, but i don't want to get to attatched. You're leaving."
"What about you?"
"Well.. I dont know. I Like you."I say in a 'i don't know' fashion, blinking furiously to the ground behind my large sunglasses, praying the tears dont fall. Its here that defensive mode kicks in, and i pretend that i don't care.
The truth? I think its one of the only things in life i regret. How could i have missed my chance? He liked me for so long. I don't know how i can face him later without wanting to cry on his shoulder. How could i have been blind for so long? Why does my timing suck?
I think this journal is my LJ secret. The only person reading it, who knows who it is- is someone i would share my secrets with anyway.
There comes moments when all one wants to do is lock themselves away and play sad music, wishing they were out doing something productive, or amongst friends. When one is so bored, that nothing feels as though it shall quench this feeling, so we sit dwelling in self pity instead of finding something to take our minds of it.
I sit here, listening to evanescence and doing exactly that. Having backread all of my friends-lists. Having started to tidy my room, gotten bored and left it half done. Having watched the old video tape of my schools musical. I even created an account on vampirefreaks.com which I doubt i will use.
Lately I have eaten far too much chocolate. During the Uni year, I am poor, and chocolate is a bit of a treat, at my parents, there is always chocolate in the house and I just don't stop eating it. Yesterday I do not think I consumed anything vaguely healthy. And then I wonder why I am sick? Still it could be worse, atleast the last weight check revealed I have neither gained nor lost. Wish I could get rid of some weight.
The smell of dinner Is tickling my nose. I am hungry. Its nearly 7pm and I have done nothing all day. Ahhhhh we all deserve days like these occasionally don't we?
- Tracy Tupman
I don't claim to be new to Livejournal, infact far from it. I have had several accounts over several years. However, i feel it is time to get a new account. Perhaps account making can be compared to shoe shopping. Despite having a perfectly good and pretty pair which is loved, one cannot override the urge to go out and purchase a new pair, slightly prettier and more modern. Sure, the old pair will still be worn reguarly, but the new pair are now part of the wardrobe.
So by now, in just one paragraph, you should have managed to work out that I am either female, or a very 'metro' male with a shoe fetish. Its amazing how fast we can learn about other people if we just open up our minds, eyes and ears. I love to people watch. Its facinating to sit on a train or bus and watch people come and go, their conversations providing furthur insight into their mysterious little lives. Doesn't people watching just make one feel normal. As if ones own sticky life is no different from all those which surround? It also satisfied the inner voyer, secretly wanting to know more than what meets the eye?
Speaking of people watching and being voyeristic, Christmas is two days away. I like Christmas, I like buying gifts for my family, when they can be afforded. I like spending all my gift money on the Boxing day sales. I like the Australian barbeque, and the seafood my parents always prepare. I like to see my family, most of them anyway. As in most families out there, my 'extended' family is a bit of a soap opera, but thats not what I'm getting into now. Family politics can wait, but I am so looking forward to observing family members behave around other family members, especially as it is the first time in years that the two families will be under the same roof. My mothers mother, and my dads sister, as well as various other members of dads side. Unfortunetly, or fortunetly in some cases, many members have followed my parents trend from last year and have decided to miss Christmas all together this year by going travelling. Who can blame them? I hope my older second-cousin won't try to make myself or my sisters feel inadequete compared to her because it is completely unfounded. My sisters and I are equal, and if I say so myself, better than her anyday, I'll try to remember this as she points out every pimple on my un-made up face and bring up every embarrassing sentance I have ever muttered.
Oh My. This is becoming a long entry, and it is becoming late at night. I sit here and wonder why I am wearing a scarf and fleecy robe two days before christmas, when ordinarily at this time of the year I would have as little on as possible and the fan on full. Such are the myseries of life. I shall now comlplain, I prefer the ability to rug up without feeling uncomfortable and hot.
I hope your people watching, or reading as this case may be, skills improve and you find me to your liking. If not, nevermind. May your tomorrows be better than your yesterdays.
- Tracy Tupman