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Metamorphosis
Well, it's finally December. The last frenzied stretch of the year, when everyone combats the foul weather and heartbreaking darkness with festive parties, mince pies and mulled wine. Well, generally. This year seems oddly devoid of the 'festive spirit'. I'm no big fan of Christmas in principle, but I like a good mid-winder holiday, and in other years it's been kind of nice to hear Christmas carols everywhere I go. I don't think I've heard even one yet this year.
Mostly I've just been wondering what happened to this year. For most of the year, every time I'd stop and think, I would wonder where it had gone--it seemed like just yesterday it was still 2006. Then I started looking back over the last year's worth of LJ entries, and realised just how much has happened, how much has changed. How much I've changed.
I've come out of my shell. I've finally gotten involved in all of the things I'd been sort-of kind-of meaning to since first year. I've 'come out' as a person-who-is-capable-of-attraction-to-members-of-the-same-sex (in as much as I was ever 'in', which is not a whole hell of a lot). I've embraced polyamoury in theory, not just in practice; I've lost even the desire for a 'normal' sort of relationship.
I've lost a lot this year. I lost my grandfather, lost a friend from school, almost lost my best friend. With the last, though, I feel like I almost regained him; I feel closer to him now than I have in years. Yet I've lost touch with so many other friends, both close and casual. I lost my favourite feather, some sewing supplies, and several pens, political badges and lighters. I lost my faith in God; I lost my ontological perspective. The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I've also gained, of course. I've found my own style, in clothing if nothing else. With it, oddly, I've found a confidence in social interactions; a security in my sense of self. In as much as I can, I've let go of the idea that I have to know exactly what I'm doing, exactly what I'm talking about, in order to actually do anything. This is, perhaps, the most important gain of all, since it is what allows for future development.
On a lighter note, I've taken up an old hobby from 5 or 6 years ago: Dungeons & Dragons. I sort of vaguely knew that some of my friends here had played in the past, or simply guessed it from the sort of people they are, but didn't find out that they were actually playing until a few weeks ago. Only I can't say which friends these are, because for some reason it's a big shameful secret that we play D&D. One guy in particular--who has all of the books on his computer--is very concerned that certain other friends remain uninformed of this hobby of his. I really don't understand why. I mean, sure, it's a quintessentially geeky pasttime, but we are all such geeks in the first place that I don't think playing D&D could intensify the geekery that much. Besides, all of our friends (including the two from whom the above-mentioned person is particularly keen to keep it from) already know we're utter geeks, and are cool with it. So what's the big fuckin' deal. I suppose this is another of those things I might understand if I had gone to a 'normal' high school. As it is, I just don't quite grasp the intensity of the stigma.
No, I grew up in the murky waters of a sheltered liberal pond, fed on radical ideas at school--but didn't actually do much with them. I could barely peek my tadpole eyes over the surface. Now I feel like I've emerged, red and black, into the real world. I can speak up now. I was recently elected to the Student Representative Council. When I told Russell about that, he reminded me of a time when I was too shy to even clerk a school meeting, told me he was proud of my gumption. I still don't have all that much brass, but I'm working on it.
Today, I was supposed to go to a protest outside of TopShop in Dundee, drawing attention to their sweatshop- and slave-labour-laden supply chain. I didn't, because I have a moderately bad cold. But I don't feel the need to agonise over it, because I'm no longer trying to become the sort of person who takes her politics to the streets. I am that person, now.
I just hope it's really a froglet I've become, not an eft. I've been very cynical lately, very pessimistic. I hope it passes. I don't want to go back into the water.
Mostly I've just been wondering what happened to this year. For most of the year, every time I'd stop and think, I would wonder where it had gone--it seemed like just yesterday it was still 2006. Then I started looking back over the last year's worth of LJ entries, and realised just how much has happened, how much has changed. How much I've changed.
I've come out of my shell. I've finally gotten involved in all of the things I'd been sort-of kind-of meaning to since first year. I've 'come out' as a person-who-is-capable-of-attraction-to-members-of-the-same-sex (in as much as I was ever 'in', which is not a whole hell of a lot). I've embraced polyamoury in theory, not just in practice; I've lost even the desire for a 'normal' sort of relationship.
I've lost a lot this year. I lost my grandfather, lost a friend from school, almost lost my best friend. With the last, though, I feel like I almost regained him; I feel closer to him now than I have in years. Yet I've lost touch with so many other friends, both close and casual. I lost my favourite feather, some sewing supplies, and several pens, political badges and lighters. I lost my faith in God; I lost my ontological perspective. The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I've also gained, of course. I've found my own style, in clothing if nothing else. With it, oddly, I've found a confidence in social interactions; a security in my sense of self. In as much as I can, I've let go of the idea that I have to know exactly what I'm doing, exactly what I'm talking about, in order to actually do anything. This is, perhaps, the most important gain of all, since it is what allows for future development.
On a lighter note, I've taken up an old hobby from 5 or 6 years ago: Dungeons & Dragons. I sort of vaguely knew that some of my friends here had played in the past, or simply guessed it from the sort of people they are, but didn't find out that they were actually playing until a few weeks ago. Only I can't say which friends these are, because for some reason it's a big shameful secret that we play D&D. One guy in particular--who has all of the books on his computer--is very concerned that certain other friends remain uninformed of this hobby of his. I really don't understand why. I mean, sure, it's a quintessentially geeky pasttime, but we are all such geeks in the first place that I don't think playing D&D could intensify the geekery that much. Besides, all of our friends (including the two from whom the above-mentioned person is particularly keen to keep it from) already know we're utter geeks, and are cool with it. So what's the big fuckin' deal. I suppose this is another of those things I might understand if I had gone to a 'normal' high school. As it is, I just don't quite grasp the intensity of the stigma.
No, I grew up in the murky waters of a sheltered liberal pond, fed on radical ideas at school--but didn't actually do much with them. I could barely peek my tadpole eyes over the surface. Now I feel like I've emerged, red and black, into the real world. I can speak up now. I was recently elected to the Student Representative Council. When I told Russell about that, he reminded me of a time when I was too shy to even clerk a school meeting, told me he was proud of my gumption. I still don't have all that much brass, but I'm working on it.
Today, I was supposed to go to a protest outside of TopShop in Dundee, drawing attention to their sweatshop- and slave-labour-laden supply chain. I didn't, because I have a moderately bad cold. But I don't feel the need to agonise over it, because I'm no longer trying to become the sort of person who takes her politics to the streets. I am that person, now.
I just hope it's really a froglet I've become, not an eft. I've been very cynical lately, very pessimistic. I hope it passes. I don't want to go back into the water.
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i have that hanging next to my bed <3 i love you.
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