fame fear

Go ahead and laugh at me but I did become an empty headed ditz because so many men have loved me, and I’ve been under so many halos that… well my brain can do anything so every time I’ve had a new boyfriend, I’ve just kind of settled into…

not myself.

a derivative of myself.

The thing is that my mind wishes to be acknowledged for its gift.  My mind is scared that the world is asking so much of me that this thing inside of it that has been latent for so long, will never get a chance to breathe.  The funny thing is that I feel this unconscious desire is so fucking patient I can hear Buddhist monks laughing at my discipline.

I read “Be Here Now” when I was 17, just as all my fore-mothers and sisters did when they were 17, and I got so into it.  I often resent Eastern thought because it really doesn’t jive with the kind of capitalism I am dealing with, however… lately the book “talks” to me or I “commune” with the power of that book.

I think I’ve been mastering the art of female intimidation unconsciously my whole life.  I’m fucking tired as shit man, but I don’t want to just submit ya know.  I have a gift.  I know it.  I must. People always tell others that they are gifted but I have this feeling that all the times I’ve been told that there was more power behind it.  I hate it when people feel “mystified” by me.  Looking back I can see how that was kind of an ego-inflation, but more than anything made me feel less scared that I wasn’t going to be… forgotten, that this “gift” that feels so strongly “me” is going to be allowed to exist in this world… I feel so confused right now and I feel really mad at Simone De Bevoir because she fucking was way more advantaged than I am and I’m only lucky to have been assigned her in a class.

My mind.  is damaged. and its hard for me to learn new things.  if those things don’t have to do with immediate survival.

wow.  i wasn’t expecting that.  i’m not in danger.  but i feel like i am.

Hah.  Why did I title this “fame fear”?  I truly can’t recall.  I both care immensely as though my life depends upon remembering because I HATE making mistakes, but… the numbness…

I hate being this person.  When I used to be a brain.  I don’t much like being a “babe.”  I only confront it because… I have to deal with it.  I am very uncomfortable with being a girl, not in a “she doesn’t know she’s gay yet” way… maybe more in a rape victim way… I don’t like any of that.  I really prefer this romanticized image of myself as this incredible modern feminist philosopher… I guess I want to be able to write on heterosexual love, and on feminism, and this is my struggle.  I never knew that… all the things that go into my idea of “feminism” are directly or indirectly linked to what all of my romanticized images of “love stories” are.  When I was younger I used to like… make this face of total “omg… wow…” when my girlfriends would talk about boys.  I felt…

My friend Amanda told me when I was young that I intimidated guys.  I’m not sure that I was actually complaining about not having a boyfriend at the time, but that’s what she was trying to reassure me about.  I do miss her.  A lot.  Ya know, just because I’ve got this whole loner empath thing going on, it doesn’t mean I don’t miss humans, but I’m not gonna feel too bad about it.  I know that… well… I am a bull shit artist, okay?  Clearly right.. I feel down a lot and then I come up with all these ways of feeling up, and I do it for everyone else around me, and I’m gonna sound like an asshole when I say this but I feel like it works for the people around me, but not for me.  Like I am rationalizing their shit, and they just go back on with life with a renewed sense of self and peace; I however am desperate to do this for myself.  I am sometimes successful, sometimes not.

“Can an empath get raped?” I just heard myself say and I am fucking smiling and laughing because I’m far more normal than I give myself credit for.

Every strong woman has at some point in her life felt weak.  The me that is being comforted by my writing desperately wants me to go on, but

briefly the fame fear is just that men have been using women’s abilities sine the dawn of time for their own… entertainment, or their own ulterior motive.  We don’t need men we tell ourselves, but we do, and then we end up becoming whatever they need and then we are miserable. <-been trying to avoid this sine day 1, been a fucking feminist since the whom people.  Fuck man, but its the strong women are desirable, and its the seemingly strong women who have this front of strength that attract men, and they aren’t going to admit that they’re weak, or if they do discover that they are in fact weak, they are going to try to work on themselves rather than throwing in the towel.

“fame fear” is a metaphor and literal.  When I was younger I made a promise to never allow fame.  Here I am letting all my secrets out.  Its hard to admit that that’s what I’m doing here, well atleast today.  I’m not really sure what this thing is, but I’m grateful for it, I think, and I add the “I think” because commitment phobia runs deep man.

I do prefer the heady lifestyle… it’s like there are the academic philosophers who think they are so self important, and granted they do contribute.  Those life mysteries need to be solved man, and once you figure out anything that could help me out, let me know; and there are the people who are just good at living life, but haven’t faced the same challenges that I face and have no ability to see how complex I am and make me feel bad about myself for not being as “okay” as they are.  Today I am wishing I was a small fish, and kind of… well is it possible?  Will I ever be simple (again/for the first time)?  I am hoping the answer is yes.  Where my lucky pennies at… I know life doesn’t work that way.  A lucky penny is meaningless to me right now.  I’ve been a searching, and I know that it is within.

I like the heady lifestyle because I like setting these awful nagging feelings to rest.  The world is a fucked up place and I like that there are smart people who realize this and are capable of doing something about it.  I get down on myself for not being one of those people.  The way I deal with that is by trying to rationalize that by working on myself, I am doing by own small part.  Sometimes it gets the job done in terms of the renewed sense of self, and sometimes it makes me feel so inadequate.


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