Looking Forward, Looking Back
No, Sam, you're right; the rant really didn't have much to do with coming out. In fact, it never even crossed my mind. There was nowhere to come out of....

Read Sara's Open Diary entry, it encapsulates what I was trying to say pretty well, too...
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I was just inspired to go through my blog and read my past entries. I wanted to know if, as with all my other journals, I would find the entries to be weak and boy-crazed and be embarrased for writing them. To a certain extent, I did find some evidence of that. Mostly in the form of private posts, which were more dramatic, twisted, and abstract than "boy crazy," or, in my case, just obsessive. Based on looking through old diarys, I think I can accurately say that (as much as it may be poignant at the time) entries focused around "love life" situations read as boring or shallow. Hell if I ever find that much excitement going back and reading about mine... I'm usually like, "god, look at what stupid thing I was doing this time..." or "aww, how sweet... I'm feeling nauseated now..." I remained from referring to Justin in this blog for some time. But really, he's such an important character in my life it's hard not to at least mention him in passing. For some people, I still refrain from using names when I'm writing emotionally and speak about them only abstractly... out of respect. These entries are usually emotional pleas and I hope they'll know I'm talking to/about them. When I find myself using names at all frequently, it's because I'm acounting something that happened. These are usually the entries I regret writing.

Still, looking through the past was interesting because at some points I wished I COULD have used names, or explained what I was thinking more thoroughly, even if it was a plea. It's also become really obvious to me whien I wrote in the midst of my progesterone-induced hell.... essentially from the beginning of the blog until about the middle of January. Let me tell you, I was SO f*cking depressed. I was blowing everything WAY out of proportion. Or ... maybe I was just more in-touch and everything real was just so much more painful than it is now. Right now I just feel disconnected, neutral, like I really don't give a fuck. It's good, I guess, but I'm waiting for it to hit me again. At least winter is over. But what interesting things will I write in the summer time? Like most writers, I'm really inspired when I feel in the dumps...

So this blog is lame and isn't lame... at least it's partially succeeded at becoming something other than a calendar of events or a chronicle of social nightmares, which is as I hoped it would be. I can say more for it than any of my other journals, though it definitely has a different flavor to it. I've written in it more regularly than any other "blank book" I've owned... and it still has endless potential. I'm not tired of it yet and I don't plan on getting tired of it anytime soon. I like to write too much.

I've succeeded here in creating another lame pseudo-introspective entry, (heh) so I'll let it end now. Another day before spring break, no more finals. We'll see where the weeks ahead take us...