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2001-06-25 / 7:28 p.m. ~Walking Dichotomy~
I think I've always felt divided, on most every subject. On the one hand, I am totally sure what I think and feel, but then again, on the other hand, maybe I can see the other side as well, maybe I can't really make up my mind, or maybe I'm just a hypocrite. When I found out my ascendant is Gemini this made sense. My rising sign, how I appear to the masses, not just as an Aries, but I'm a Gemini too, outwardly, whatever that means. The twins, the two opposing factors, right? Or maybe I'm just talking out my ass. That's more likely. But I've been accused of flip-flopping when it comes to most of my viewpoints, "But you said you feel like this!", and I say, "Yeah, well, when did I say THAT? I feel this way actually, I think". So it goes that I've been feeling a bit conflicted about diaryland.com, about having a diary, and about reading all the diaries. I was better off when it was all about me, when I didn't think a lot about the rest of the people here, what they're writing, what their lives are like, how old they are, will they read me? Suddenly, I started really caring, like it mattered a lot, like this was my universe and all revolved around my daily entry, couldn't wait to write it, my outlet, then reading the others, all wrapped up in total strangers' lives, adding them to my favorites, linking them, linking us all together in some grand diary web. On the web even. But is that even what I want? Really? I just wanted a place to write. I'd been writing at Themestream.com and they went under and I was lost, and the people I'd come to know and read and love were all going their separate ways and I was looking for something, someplace to WRITE, that's all. One long run-on sentence after another, with lots of "and"s, but what I mean is I just wanted that feeling again, that sense of writers writing, for each other, for the sheer pleasure of writing, and since my style has always been first person, journal-like,"here's my life, this is what I feel, what I think", kind of stuff, well this was perfect. I have to back up though. It doesn't matter if anyone else reads it, it's for me. My tattoos are for me. When asked why I don't wear little tank tops to show off the Chinese Dragon on my shoulder I have to stop, semi-aghast....why would I?! It's not for everyone else, it's for me. It's all for me, I am selfish and I don't care. It's all for me. So, I think one way one day, another the next, and change mid-sentence at times, Gemini Rising, Aries Sun Sign, maybe it's the Sagittarius Moon (the same combination as Van Gogh: Aries Sun/Sag Moon - and you know what happened to HIM!), it makes no difference, I'm fickle, I am balanced, but I feel strongly, either way, one way now, one way tomorrow. Today....... Today I saw my diary on Internet Explorer, used the IS Dept computer at work to get online on my break, and it looked fab! No fancy HTML, just a diaryland.com template, but it looked nice, really, the text all centered, unlike here at home on Netscape. I was pleased. Pleased with my array of diaryrings as well, the recently added Birkenstocks ring a nice accompaniment. Happy, happy, joy, joy. It's for ME, you see. Onward......I've conditioned myself to look straight ahead when I pass the chicken abattoir in the morning, the "Poultry Processing Plant", of course I must hold my nose as well some days, when it's really hot or when a strong wind blows from the north. Today, I don't know why, maybe because it's been a long time, but I took a look, wanted to see the truck beds lined up under the roof of the shed, the fans blowing on the chickens packed into their orange crates, waiting, and they don't know what for, only it's crowded, it's uncomfortable, get ME OUT! So, as sometimes there is, there is one chicken escaped, up on top of all the crates, on top of the world, casually pecking, just walking around, what to do, what to do, what do I do NOW? I'm giving these chickens a lot of credit, I know, but I believe they are sentient beings, possibly with souls, and I feel sorry for them, even if I turn right around and order a chicken sandwich from some restaurant later. Still, I abhor the idea of factory farming, of treating animals as "product". Funny to see the escapee, nowhere to go really...one time one made it all the way to our parking lot at work, pecking away in the grass on the periphery, and when I pointed this out to the women in my dept they were worried about it being hit by a car! I said, hey, let's go get it and cook it up!! They didn't see the humor....but talk about being hypocritical, these are people who eat chicken every day of their lives, practically, and they have mixed feelings about doing their own slaughtering? Huh? Topic shift....I've been thinking about summers past since I wrote yesterday's entry, and yesterday's entry got to me again today when I re-read it, made me fill up with emotion, with sadness, and I want to write about sailing, but I'd rather go eat my Tuna Helper. Seriously, I've got to go shopping, SOON. Cost of the War in Iraq
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