23 April 2016

JOURNAL: THERE'S BLOOD ON MY MOTHERBOARD

 My biggest fear continues to be that people will find me boring. Or grow bored with me, I'm not sure if those are the same or two different things.

It's a thing that has haunted me for always. I used to think I could banish it, that I'd beat it and cast it off like a brilliant and powerful amazon (not the corporation) never to be held back again. But now I recognize it will probably always be there. It's become a thing to face, to test--to dance with and romance and then to shy away from again.



There's a lull in building friendships--a great gulf that scares me every time. The initial getting-to-know-facts-and-favorite-colors step is second nature now. The shy young kid who crept around her dorm building freshman year and sat paralyzed unable to speak to anyone in her classes has blossomed a bit. But there's this deep cavernous pit, a moon crater, or perhaps a Kola Superdeep Borehole--a scientific drilling project that I'm afraid of going into because I hate when we come away empty and walk away from each other. Perhaps it's better to look at these as expeditions in the name of science and in the pursuit of truth rather than feeling like I just shared a bit of my soul that I can't get back even though it's been rejected.

How do you even share when your raisons d'ĂȘtre are made of things like cupping your hands in front of your face and blowing at the honeysuckle petals in your hand to watch as they flutter in a puff of tiny brilliant orange specks? Marvels like that are so quiet and small, they're hard to share with most people.   

I'd been pondering this because I've dipped back into a reclusive phase and I'm feeling the need to break out in some way. Last night I was twiddling my thumbs reflecting when I knew what was needed was to film something. Anything. So I took a walk to a hidden little nature preserve I discovered a few months ago with a boy--I'd known for a long time I'd need to go back alone to make it mine. Even then as we'd held hands we felt like two solo units who happened to be there in step with each other. I walked there hoping I'd find it again, find it before it was dark. I found the stairs just as we had then and I climbed down into this beautiful place. And for a minute I filmed the stream as I looked around and breathed in the world. 


22 April 2016 from Marge Bjork on Vimeo.