you meme

Dec. 28th, 2007 06:55 am
gilana: (Default)
[personal profile] gilana
Gakked from [livejournal.com profile] aphrabehn:

"I know very little about some of the people on my friends list. Some people I know relatively well. I read your journals, or we have something else in common, and we chat occasionally. Some of you I hardly know at all. Perhaps you lurk, for whatever reason. But you friended me, and I thank you for your interest in my words.

But here's a thought: why not take this opportunity to tell me a little something about yourself. Any old thing at all. Just so the next time I see your name I can say: "Ah, there's so and so...they enjoy the savory aroma of monkey brains a la mode."

I'd love it if every single person who friended me would do this. Yes, even you people who I know really well. Then, if you like, post this in your own journal and see what gems of knowledge appear."
From: [identity profile] shereminisces.livejournal.com
When I get uncomfortable or nervous in social situations, I tend to talk about sex or my boobs. I don't know why and I hate it.

I tend to communicate least with people I dislike, which is normal, but also with people I like best. This is because when I like someone I generally feel that what I have to say is not clever or awesome enough to be worth their time, so I don't want to say anything. This occurs even with close friends, and more often than seems possible. I lost one of my best friends in the entire world over this issue.

At least 50% of the reason I am going to England right now is so that I won't have to be in the same city as Beau for our final breakup (and his possible new relationship with his other ex girlfriend). I have barely admitted this to anyone because it is embarrassing, but it is clear in my mind. I have never been able to get over someone I was in love with without considerable amounts of distance, both temporally and physically, and I am scared I will have to leave town every time I break up with someone for the rest of my life.

Sorry to unload all this on you. You have always been so welcoming to me, and I have wished we stayed in better touch, fleeting as our meeting was. You, Ethan, Lidia... I never contact any of you, or the other people I care about who wouldn't judge me, and I don't know why. I just can't seem to do it, except apparently in random LJ comments. Secretly I feel so overwhelmed I could burst, but I'm not even writing it in my own journal. Who knows why this eve has produced such a confession?

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