on one side or another of crazy.

it's hard to know where to start these days, so more often than not, i don't. and there are many things that i can point to for my varying moods and discontents that should explain everything, but even i am not satisfied. my friends are, for the most part, too polite to push very hard, except maybe in the dark. unfortunately, i can't say the same for myself, so i have since been exchanging bitter words and silences with myself, unable to believe my own passive aggressiveness and just plain aggressive aggressiveness and hope that someday relatively soon, i'll be able to forgive myself for crossing one line or another that would've been better left uncrossed, but think i'm justified nonetheless in being a bit peeved at the unapologetic intrusions and impolitic accusations of telling half-truths and maybe more than half-lies to explain all manner of things, even if not on purpose. sometimes, things are said just to be said so that one can move on to the next thing, that will, one hopes, be a more comfortable topic of discussion. needless to say, i argue with myself sometimes about whether or not i'm crazy, but the result is still the same, regardless of what side i end up coming out on, and mostly, i don't care about the answer much anyway. or try not to.

and i think to myself, this - this is crazy. your life is not just all of this and why the hell do you insist on writing like this when this is yet another case of just half-truths and more than half-lies? you do not look good in morose. no. or angst for that matter. the coloring is all wrong. and i respond, yeah, well, it's partly true anyway, and i'm mostly writing when i'm in this space that i can't get out of that i want desperately to get out of, so i try to write my way out of it, the end result of which is usually deeper in than nearer out. i was asked today what i write, if it was fiction or something else. i'm wondering if there is an appropriate answer to that and think, whoa, is this the one thing that i'm relativist about? how irritatingly unlike me, i think. i hope, rather. here's the rub. i am a woman who is obsessively perfectionist and strives for precision with a sense of minimalism. all of this demands a certain clarity of ambition and purpose. at the moment this is what is missing. and my blog manages to capture me most in these moments, which is why it reflects the general overall mood it seems to reflect; how my words seem to be more dark than i am, more serious than i am, more worry-inducing than i am. anyway. that's been bothering me for awhile. so i'm glad to get that out of the way. and since when the hell did i become a woman who says "and here's the rub"? some things about myself i am destined to never understand.