Thursday, May 05, 2005 // 1:17 AM

there is nothing politically correct about things

do you think we'll ever be functional, fully functional? i dont think you might understand, i'm not sure if it might have ever crossed your mind. i dont know, it is something integral, i dont see dysfunction as an added attribute per se, it is rather the absence of functionability, the limb that you never had and would never understand how to use, even if it were suddenly installed in your sleep. this is not the common symptom of good upbringing and being middle class, and yet it is. perfectly understandable, given circumstances, given sociological, cultural (always it is cultural) context. i have no idea how qualified i am to say anything at all about being dysfunctional, very likely, not very much qualified at all. but i dont care about qualifications anymore, i am stripping off all the things i used to care about, the giants i used to serve, that perhaps i used to believe would prop me up, make me significant. or it was not about being significant, it was. give me something to preoccupy myself, something to shield myself from the blinding storm that is the universe, the potential that it has to mess with my mind. that is what i am saying, but i am saying: my belief was sincere, my current loyalty to absurdism is only contrived if the entire person that i am is contrived (i am not ruling things out). but certainly, there is nothing more real to me than my beliefs, i am full of beliefs, perhaps you might say that is my problem, perhaps you might say to me, flatly, my dear no one cares what the heck it is that you think.

so any way. i have been derailed, gloriously derailed, in typical fashion. but are we sick of being functional yet? i am learning and i am learning slowly, but things are said that dont fit in, a feeling remains that i cannot share with people who are in that much not like me. i dont believe this is a peculiar position, i dont believe that at all. but certainly, certainly this is not wholesome, this is all about upbringing. my parents who are perhaps not fully normal (at least one of them) have manufactured out an assembly line (of three) of strange peculiar people, i think: me, my siblings, we are each strange in our own way. we would make a great adams family, i do think, i remember watching the show in the past and thinking what's so strange about that? i cant remember what the thought was for. i dont know, maybe i am the only one who has taken this route of pretence, but i made the mistake of thinking i could separate things, a real and a fake, how many times have i said things about my real-ness and fake-ness being inseperable. you must know, pretend hard enough and for long enough a time, your story gets into you and you get convinced as to who you are (ask me, ask me; i know all about pretending).

and im sad because the people who might possibly understand this much about me are just so often no longer in my picture, on the same page, anymore. there is no single person i know who can understand everything about me, is this normal, to have so many faces, so whattheysaidwas complicated, layered, a personality? i dont think anyone is simple but certainly not me. kevin i think you might come the closest to the surface of me because you dont make me feel judged, but also it is true that. i dont tell these things to you, i've blocked out a sordid history that has retreated into the underground of my subconscious, and will therefore probably never be fully exhumed. i couldnt tell you even if i wanted to (and i wouldnt rule it out, because really, i do trust you), because it is just. not there anymore. fong says things about how the new friends we make are different, it is just different, it is all different. i would like to be honest but i fear disapproval that translates into inconvenience, but more than disapproval i fear what being honest might involve, i fear how my wrecklessness might become sometime soon justified. i want someone to be brutally honest with me once in a while, even if it is going to hurt my feelings. i know i am theatrical, but i. i want to be honest with someone, fully honest, at least once in a while. i do like my class, a lot more than i think i would the alternative, i do not welcome the feeling of being constantly under some sort of scrutiny, i do not wish to participate in politics or a juicy grapevine, i do not believe in these things i really, really dont (who cares, really, what your sexual orientation is? i mean this in the nicest, most polite way possible, all i am saying is geez, why is this taking longer than a five minute conversation? is there anything else that might hold your attention? because i really dont see what's so incredibly sensational about a so-called secret- it is just a mismatch of wavelength). but any way. there is an unabashedness that has been lacking that i am slowly trying to regain, and i will get there i know it has just been a matter of time.

training is infuriating when there are only us particular three. somebody has to be on the trampoline, someone else has to be watching the someone who is on the trampoline, and then there is me. this is me paying for all the slacking i've done in previous months, not to say that i would be on any sort of level with you guys even if i hadnt been. but i would at least be on the trampoline itself and more in a position to be helped and therefore do something useful. sometimes i cant blame myself for not wanting to train, or wanting to train and not eventually doing it. there is too much congeniality for me to articulate things anyway.