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A girl with kaleidoscope thighs

For those of you who participated in my little fistula of whoredom yesterday, thank you. I did manage to get some constructive pieces out of it, but nothing like what I expected. Best advice was "chillax, dork".

Yeah.

It's hard to just chill and let stuff happen. I did a lot of that with the last LTR, and things went badly. A lot of my life in the past four years has been coming to grips with taking an active role in my life, making positive changes toward responsibility and being all adult-like.

But it's a journey with no destination. There is no magic place that I will be some inestimable time in the future when I can say I'm done, I'm happy with me, there's nothing more to fix; it will eternally be moving toward a direction instead of a goal. It's a lot like being lost in the Eternal Forests of Curmudgeon.

One can also hope to realize that with all the rather drastic changes that my body chemistry has been plowing through, my moods have been swinging like a 1950's bachelor. And because I am a well-documented attention whore, I'm trying to articulate the inner crud that keeps floating its way to the surface. Mostly for me, but somewhat for you. Content is mostly for me, style is mostly for you.

That will probably change too.

The whole no secrets thing has been an interesting experiment, but I suspect it's reached it's end of usefulness. It served its purpose: there was a time when I had a lot of defensive barriers in place, and I've managed to smack down a huge lot of them, but new ones managed to pop up in different places. The psyche is a tricky thing.

I think it's time for me to have some secrets again.

Joy unto you.

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