Anyone know what a GWAR shirt is?

Anyway...I think I shook her off or something...she replied to my first email like, lickety split, and it's been two days since I sent my last one.

Or maybe she found the journal (doubtfull...i can't imagine she'd be interested (and bored) enough to do a web search on my name...) and some of the things I said freaked her out.

Hmmm...while we're on the subject...

I have a farely unusual name. This makes finding my websites and pretty much any archived tidbit bearing my name (like dat-heads) trivial to find. For a while (back when I still cared) I tried taking down my site so the people doing my security clearance wouldn't find all my old posts about smoking marijuana back in college...and the hooligan antics I involved myself in way back when as well... 

And despite what earthlink told me, ALL of my earthlink pages are still being hosted...which, actually, since I no longer give a rats ass about my clearance, is nice to have as another sort of unstable backup...

Then I stopped caring and got sick of not journaling or being online so i restored everything on geocities and began anew here.

( not that it really matters because I admitted to that use quite frankly in my security questionare, and again when Mr. Ervin J. Weber just so happened to catch me while I was in Antioch visiting my parents!) I mean hell...I talk about my past history of pot smoking and how I think it hurt my brain farely often at the office now a days.

The only time my journal ever affected me in real life is the one time it mattered most...When I was in college and posted my suicide letter/journal entry, my father read it. Unbeknownest to me, he had found my journal and was reading it. The brief delay between posting my kiss off and the instigation of my plans was enough time for him to call me and bring me back from the brink.

That was over four years ago. Since then I've gone through a myriad of hosts and sites and I don't think Dad is there anymore...either because he gave up looking or becase he thinks I'm steady enough now that he doesn't need to monitor anymore. Unless he brings it up I'll never know, because I'm not about to spoil his ignorance by mentioning it (if he even IS ignorant of this latest reincarnation).

Even still...every now and again I wonder just who has been through here...what anonymous visitors I've had. It's a fleeting concern; as I siad, whoever may have actually come here, it's never struck me the same as it did back in Feb 98. I have only received a small handfull of indicators of who exactly was out there since then...

This anonymousity makes my journaling easy. I am a loner, really. I don't worry about coworkers or friends snooping around. I don't worry about government agencies anymore. I can say whatever the fuck I so choose and not fear any sort of reprecussions. It pains me in more ways than one to find another journal that is friends only, or discontinues because the journaler was "found out".

I'm a very lucky man in some respects. Despite how easy my journals have been to find, I still have no fears about it being read by others near me IRL...because experience has shown me that either a) people really don't care, or b) I am so the loner that no-one is looking. I can spew obsceneties without fear of offending. I can use real first names without fear of incrimidation or alienation. I can talk about real issues in my life and whine about what is probably laughable to lots of people, without worrying about being confronted IRL about it. For all my years of online journaling, it's rarely overstepped the boundaries of a paper journal. 

And yet despite these feelings and this luck...I found myself deleting a segment of my last post. I have never done that before, not because of a fear some woman read what I wrote, not because I was afraid my coworkers or friends would read, not because of anyone...and yet just today I have done it. 

I've woken up every morning these past few days and my conscious has been clear. My mind has turned away from this new dificulty over this new woman...and yet a mere two days go by without receiving a reply to an innocent email and I delete words that I think scared her. What needs to happen is that she doesn't return that email. I need some help from her to clear my mind on that one...

Even still, I can say right now that tomorrow when I go into work, I'll be holding my breath as I open up Outlook...just as I did yesterday, and just as I did today.

I don't think my consciousness hasever wanted to be dissapointed more in my life. I don't think my heart has ever hated my consciousness as much as it does right now for saying that. 

current mood:  anxious
current music: Smashing Pumpkins _Adore_  

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