Kat Zephyr

Mind Matters
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2012-05-28 03:55:30 (UTC)

Self-identity

Dear diary, dear me, and dear anonymous strangers alike. After much reflection, and a fair share of regression, I've decided to finally start a journal on here, though, it might as well be a blog since it's not exactly on a piece of paper. (I wonder how many people on here gave up on "oldfashioned" things like pens and paper?)

I don't really know what I'll write in here, just that nothing is off limits. That, and trying to gain some online confidence, are my main reasons for being here. I began this whole internet scene a lot later than most of my peers, despite first using computers when I was 5, and honestly, I've felt way out of my league for too long. I guess part of my complex stems from internet fourms. When I was 16, I fell in love with a band, and I felt things as a fan that I'd yet to experience otherwise. I adored the music, took up writing, and began to ravenously consume any and everything they did. Eventually, that hunger brought me to their online messageboards. Those were some of the best and worst times of my life. I interacted with some amazing people, some of whom are still good friends with me today. The peoblem is, I tend to learn things through observation better than anything else, and what I observed at the time was that I was green at best. I surrounded myself with lit snobs and poetry purests in order to better myself intellectually, but what it did mostly was tear down my self-confidence. I was playing with the big boys, impressing them even, talking to people some would die to know on the personal level I attained. But, to hang with them, I had to become them, or so I concluded at the time, and that's what stunted me for so long: never learning to be myself online. So, here I am, a good 4 years after the forum slowly died, and a lot better since then. But I want to feel more comfortable still, so by doing this as well as other online experiments (which I will report as I go), I plan to acheive just that. An odd thing to be distressed about, I know. But I pride myself as a writier, so being unable to express myself an any form is unacceptable. I may rewrite this, but this will do for now.

Until next time, then.


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