~~wah. trying to be non-fannish. failing.

i was going to just make a short post about my wibbling, listening to ac/dc ("you shook me all night long", eheheh) on the radio in the dining hall, and you know... rockin'. and then i was like, dude. i bet people would be -shocked- if they knew how much i liked hard rock and metal and things like that. i don't seem the type, do i. that's not my "image". and that seriously disturbs me. that i even -think- about things like that. it's not that i stop doing anything due to this phantom `image', but i stop and think about it. which is bad enough. i mean, suuuure, i listen to enya and tori and new wave and new age and sarah mclachlan and all that, just like good little `sensitive gurls' are supposed to. but. nothing really gets me like hard rock gets me. it's how i grew up, dancing like mad in front of the mirror.
    mostly, it's not the music. i just... wish my more extreme, loud, abrasive self was more obvious, i wish people could see it, because mostly, they don't. i so want to be like tank girl, delirium, ani difranco, just-- i dunno. someone in-your-face and bitchy and strong, and unafraid of anything, and always herself. because... well... i am. i hate it that i'm always seen as sweet and kind and meek and mousy and gentle. it makes me want to -scream-. i have all this fire and anger and energy, and it's all bottled up and washed under, most of the time, by the calm still waters of soft-spokenness and gentility. not that it's false-- i'm not secretly mean or anything.
    because even when i sing, i sing really softly. i have, for most of my life, anyway, unless i'm really really -really- alone. only recently have i learned to sing loudly, because i -want- to. there's this huge part of me that wants to be bloody -loud-. i want to -change- things, i want to make a difference, i want to sing on the top of my lungs and not be "sweet" just because i'm quiet. because quiet isn't sweet. quiet is just subdued. even tori-- she's not about quiet, to me. neither is sarah, or fiona. they're all about tearing yourself open and being honest and free, and that's not quiet. they're -singing-. and that's not quiet. *sigh* i don't even like ac/dc (seriously now. they act/look/sound like morons, if you think about it). but i like (pretty) noise~:)
~~

i also wanted to mention the fur-trees. they're so pretty with the tufts of snow on them. they seem made for snow. i could see every needle, such a pretty olive-green. it made me tingle. is it just me? is it just me who could live for music and for fur-trees? i mean, people kill themselves because there's nothing left. i don't understand, not completely. i get depressed, -really- depressed. but i could never want to totally -stop- while there is the sublime pleasure of the visual and audible world, wrapping around me. at my worst, i was always in love with the world, and not only with words and ideas and concepts. i could let them go. i could let go every word, every poem, every painting, if the source of it all would remain, if i could keep the colors and the light and the tingly wind and the harsh beat of drums. all i need is to feel myself a part of them. even in the midst of winter (which i hate), i can't bring myself to reject the world, because it is always so beautiful i feel like i'm dying from overload, except i'm not. i'm living. it's all living. and way before i ever met someone i could say i loved, i knew this was it. this was love. how can you say you never loved? you, who have been outside, who's seen a sunset, who's seen the snow drift over pine-needles. it is everywhere, wrapped around everything, suffusing the world like light. with even the memory of it.... i feel a happiness that has nothing to do with being the opposite of sadness. maybe it's just the heady thrum of existence, which is neither this nor that but is perhaps... like an affirmation. like the wind is whispering "yes", even as it chills you to the bone.
~~

( and of course, couldn't get away from the fannish meta stuff. this time -about- fannishness. )