March 1st, 2004

hair

Creepy people

Okay, now, I'm used to people indulging in flirtatious (and at times obscene) banter on newsgroups. I don't mind people making comments about bits of my body, items of my underwear, and so on, particularly if those comments are funny. If the wordplay's good, anything goes.

But there's one person on uk.misc who is pissing me off. He's clearly only about 18 so I suppose he'll grow out of it, but he's made a couple of comments about removing my knickers and "rummaging around in my bra" which just make me feel really uncomfortable. I think if I got on with him in other threads -- if I felt he was a friend, or at least a generally decent person -- then I wouldn't object, though I still wouldn't think he was being particularly funny. But he's certainly not a friend (I've already got into one argument with him about cars -- he believes cars should be as fast as possible; he believes that he should be allowed to pay only one lot of road tax for 2 cars; he also believes that the size/power of the car has no effect on the cost of insurance) and when he's not shouting about how big his cock^H^H^H^Hcar is, he's quoting 20-page posts and only adding "ROTFPMSL!!!!" at the end. In other words, he's a wanker.

The problem is, I don't feel I can object on the group (and I certainly don't feel I can respond the way I want to, i.e. something along the lines of "fuck off, you top-posting wankfisted teenage sleazemonkey") without everybody else calling me a hypocrite, and/or telling me that if I can't take the good-natured banter I should get out of the group.

I don't like killfiling individuals but I suspect it's the only thing to do; but it makes me feel as though I've failed -- I don't want to react to something so stupid, something that basically amounts to a small boy sniggering at rude words. But I still feel uncomfortable with it.

Maybe I'm just overreacting.
kanji

The still point of the turning world

The morning went as mornings do: hazy waking, dozing, Wogan, and warm duvet counterpointed (or counterpained) by the looming inevitability of Life Beyond Bed. Layers of tights and skirts; everything outside was frosted, frozen. I wanted my feet to crunch as they followed their automatic path, but life doesn't always have the right sound effects. The clocks will go back soon, rewinding without a whisper. This morning Jesus Green was blinding, all ice and sparkle, and the roads were rivers of light.

I don't feel sick any more at the thought of going to work. It's a good job, with good people. But I can see clearly from this position (where before, I couldn't see anything clearly beyond needing to get out of a hopeless job) that it's not what I want to do with my life long-term. I know what I want to do with my life, I've made that clear before now, and I think I made it clear again today, though I didn't mean the conversation to take that turn. I don't want to weigh my life and other people's lives down with plans for the future; they saturate the feathers of our wings. I just want to keep on walking forwards, whichever way looks like the best kind of forwards at the time, hand in hand with somebody who's walking in the same direction. Perhaps we'll talk on the journey, or perhaps we'll stay silent and watch the scenery through each other's eyes. Shadows stretching out like stories before the setting sun.

Karate lesson this evening, after an hour of kicking, turned into an impromptu chat about philosophy with sensei. His belief is that we should do the things which "feed us", the things which enrich us and fill us with life and energy, and we should cut out of our lives the things which drain us. Personally I think that the realities of life require a little more in the way of sacrifice and compromise, but it's a good principle nonetheless. I just think it's more a question of moving towards the things that feed you, and moving away from the things that drain you, rather than trying to sever connections or leap instantaneously from one place to another. You can only cross a bridge one step at a time. It's harder if the other side of the bridge is moving away from you, but you won't make the journey any easier by trying to jump or carve pieces out of the bridge. (At this point, the rotten boards of the metaphor probably give way under my feet.)

At the moment I'm not sure if any one thing is draining me; it's just that I'm doing too much. Even once I stop working at the Carlton, I'll still be juggling too many things, and not giving my best to any of them. I know which things I want to have the best of me; I just need to work out what else has to give in order for that to happen. It'll come.
  • Current Mood
    moving forwards