I came across it tonight. Not just the blog, but all the little body of artifacts of that version of myself. All of these snapshots of a person and the potentiality of a person. I forget most of the time that I'm still both-- the person and the potentiality. The promise and the fallen-short delivery. I too often find myself feeling formed these days. Not complete, really, but not becoming more so. I'm just the person. This is it. Sorry.
I'm not really feeling nostalgic. I'm not trying to remember anything, and I'm only trying to relive in as much as I want that return to consciousness, that renewed awareness that the world is still in front of me and that I am still in front of me and that I need to feel terrified and vulnerable and naive and hopeful because that's who I am when I'm me. Existence precedes essence. Proceed.
I mean, I really do want to return to becoming me, starting from the me I am now. But I guess I'm not being entirely truthful about not wanting to see as I saw four years ago. I miss how passionate and breakable I was, and how even when I as cryptic or just telling my soul to a deserted blog, I was at least honest. In that way, I guess I haven't changed-- it's so much easier for me to be real with the illusion of somebody watching. Were this a diary or some private note tucked away in a dresser drawer or a hidden folder on my computer, it would all be lies or it would all be nothing. Here, in front of you, even though you is presumably no one, I have to see and feel everything. I have to stew in it, to blister rather than compartmentalize.
I wish I could describe what I was feeling like now, or I wish someone could see how ridiculous I look. I feel turned on. I mean, I feel activated-- like someone plugged me in or re-lit me or shook me out some stoic slumber. I'm grinning, not necessarily happy, and crying, not necessarily sad, and my face is flushed full of life. I guess there's a learning curve to feeling, or at least a clumsy process to remembering that I am and must be really, presently here and that I must never arrive.
So, tell you friends! I'm back, world. I'm back, nobody. And I'm on my way.