Venn diagrams
Jun. 28th, 2003 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenWell...
I guess I'm not really at my best at the moment. It's a number of factors - the heat, my lack of luggage, etc, etc, but meh. There's nothing like borrowing someone else's clothes to make you feel like a stranger in a very strange land. According to the relevant authorities, my luggage is being held up in Philadelphia indefinitely, or something along those lines, and just meh, meh, meh, because not only do I not have my clothes, I don't have my red ringbinder, either. They asked me if I'd lost anything of value in that bag - I didn't feel up to explaining the concept of fanfic so I just said it was my diary. It's at least as important, though, as that ringbinder contains all my notes and ideas for fic that I haven't typed up. Fucking airlines.
And now I am here, I feel like I should be enjoying myself, as I do usually, but I just feel underwhelmingly depressed. And I think I may have the reason figured out - this is a house where if you feel at all off, you shout about it. This is a house of noise. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. It's just hard to get used to. The other thing that's hard to get used to is the feeling that I'm being quietly disapproved of. I try my best to be good and quiet and not to fucking swear (I mean it. I haven't said "bloody" or "crap" or "hell" since I got here) but all the same, I'm still the weird one, the punk!rock! one with the issues and the argumentative tendencies, the only one who doesn't sing bhajans or speak Hindi or know Bharat Natayam and really doesn't give a fuck.
I want to take Nupur back with me. I want to show her a freer life, a life where every moment is not organised and provided for by the parental units. Hell, I mean my life. I mean a life in which you can wake up in the morning, stagger online, chat to a friend and agree to go to the beach/sit on Chavasse/buy beads/get coffee/whatever, and then just go out and do it. My life, with its lack of organisation and sweet, complete and utter freedom that I've alaways taken for granted. I want Nupur to experience the same. I went with her to her Bharat Natyam class this morning. When her teacher went to get something, she told me, quietly, calmly, that she hates the class. She's given up every Saturday for the last seven years for this class, and yet she hates it. You see why I want so desperately to take her home with me? I'd like her to have a hobby she wants to do herself. I'm not saying she should write, like me, or draw, like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cucharita, or design websites like purplerainbow, or ride horses like ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
osiris13, all I'm saying is that I'd like for her to do something for herself, because she wants to do it, because she wants to do it. She's thirteen and a half. When I was thirteen and a half, I was, in Oscar Wilde's words, beginning that life-long love affair with myself. I would say my life is absolutely different from those of my parents. They're like Venn diagrams - they do overlap, but they're not the same.
In fact, the bloody Bharat Natyam is a metaphor for the whole thing, her life as compared to mine. It's so structured, so disciplined, so almost-perfect... but it's dance, it's supposed to be dance, and yet there's no joy in it, no joie de vivre, no lust for life.
And of course I'm probably talking out of my arse. I'm very tired, still jet-lagged, and needed a damn place to let my thoughts spill out into. I'm sure everything's just fine and I'm being all angsted out for nothing. I'm tired and need some time to myself.
One last point - I am reading all your journals. I'm just being slow responding to comments because I really don't have that much time and this is a very slow connection. However, I am missing you all like hell, and just... love to all.
I guess I'm not really at my best at the moment. It's a number of factors - the heat, my lack of luggage, etc, etc, but meh. There's nothing like borrowing someone else's clothes to make you feel like a stranger in a very strange land. According to the relevant authorities, my luggage is being held up in Philadelphia indefinitely, or something along those lines, and just meh, meh, meh, because not only do I not have my clothes, I don't have my red ringbinder, either. They asked me if I'd lost anything of value in that bag - I didn't feel up to explaining the concept of fanfic so I just said it was my diary. It's at least as important, though, as that ringbinder contains all my notes and ideas for fic that I haven't typed up. Fucking airlines.
And now I am here, I feel like I should be enjoying myself, as I do usually, but I just feel underwhelmingly depressed. And I think I may have the reason figured out - this is a house where if you feel at all off, you shout about it. This is a house of noise. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. It's just hard to get used to. The other thing that's hard to get used to is the feeling that I'm being quietly disapproved of. I try my best to be good and quiet and not to fucking swear (I mean it. I haven't said "bloody" or "crap" or "hell" since I got here) but all the same, I'm still the weird one, the punk!rock! one with the issues and the argumentative tendencies, the only one who doesn't sing bhajans or speak Hindi or know Bharat Natayam and really doesn't give a fuck.
I want to take Nupur back with me. I want to show her a freer life, a life where every moment is not organised and provided for by the parental units. Hell, I mean my life. I mean a life in which you can wake up in the morning, stagger online, chat to a friend and agree to go to the beach/sit on Chavasse/buy beads/get coffee/whatever, and then just go out and do it. My life, with its lack of organisation and sweet, complete and utter freedom that I've alaways taken for granted. I want Nupur to experience the same. I went with her to her Bharat Natyam class this morning. When her teacher went to get something, she told me, quietly, calmly, that she hates the class. She's given up every Saturday for the last seven years for this class, and yet she hates it. You see why I want so desperately to take her home with me? I'd like her to have a hobby she wants to do herself. I'm not saying she should write, like me, or draw, like
cucharita, or design websites like purplerainbow, or ride horses like osiris13, all I'm saying is that I'd like for her to do something for herself, because she wants to do it, because she wants to do it. She's thirteen and a half. When I was thirteen and a half, I was, in Oscar Wilde's words, beginning that life-long love affair with myself. I would say my life is absolutely different from those of my parents. They're like Venn diagrams - they do overlap, but they're not the same. In fact, the bloody Bharat Natyam is a metaphor for the whole thing, her life as compared to mine. It's so structured, so disciplined, so almost-perfect... but it's dance, it's supposed to be dance, and yet there's no joy in it, no joie de vivre, no lust for life.
And of course I'm probably talking out of my arse. I'm very tired, still jet-lagged, and needed a damn place to let my thoughts spill out into. I'm sure everything's just fine and I'm being all angsted out for nothing. I'm tired and need some time to myself.
One last point - I am reading all your journals. I'm just being slow responding to comments because I really don't have that much time and this is a very slow connection. However, I am missing you all like hell, and just... love to all.
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no subject
on 2003-06-29 05:38 am (UTC)I'd have hated it, but in the US things do seem to be much more structured like that.
Hope your bags turn up!
Re:
on 2003-06-29 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-06-29 07:40 am (UTC)Is good news, at least!