phoenix: ink-and-watercolour drawing -- girl looking calmly over her shoulder (Default)
[personal profile] phoenix
Change is slow and subtle, but it comes.

I'm feeling much less ambivalent about friendship, so that my reserve feels restrictive, no longer shrugging, sure-what-ya-gonna-do, comfortably solitary. I'm appreciating the gifts and qualities of friendship, longing to collaborate, discuss, riff, lounge with others. But still fearful, clenched-fist antisocial. Unwilling to give in to human needs and longing.

Changing, too, in wanting to write even more than I want to read. The apathetic shrugging has gone here too, but now I'm hungry to write something while my cupboards of ideas are empty. May mine my own quiet history but I'm sick of autobiographing, I'm just unable to find a next step elsewhere.

I wonder if writing these down will change anything in my slow-moving head? It does, sometimes, especially when followed by sleep. Otherwise I may cautiously tend the fires of one or other dissatisfaction till it breaks into flame through the barriers. I want to be patient even when it always feels like I'm wasting hundreds of years stalled.
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