Archive for December, 2005

stuck

Saturday, December 3rd, 2005

Did you ever get stuck? I have.

It’s not wriiter’s block. Writer’s block and I have an almost warm antipathy, like Snoopy and the Red Baron. Besides, I’d have to be a writer of one sort or another to have writer’s block. As someone so trivially pointed out long ago, a writer is one who writes and, presumably, during episodes of writer’s block, tries to write.

I have something else. I would call it ‘liver’s block’, for one who lives and is stuck, only that sounds like an organic ductile malfunction. Maybe muted life, except that equates living with sound, and some of the most profound living is done silently. Paralyzed life? Yes, more or less, but that’s a little too medical sounding. Immobile? Immovable? Sedimented? (like a fossil) Bound? (like a bad boy? …no, that’s something else) Withdrawing? Isolative? Marlene-Dietrich-ist? (‘I vant to be uh-lohn’) Or maybe just scared. But, endeavoring to hide what you have is the surest way to convince yourself that you have something to hide. Also, if you doubt your value, concealing your identity might, by implying importance, help relieve that anxiety.

There’s a clue! The one thing I most noticed about the Internet when I first discovered it was that no one used their real name. I was averse to misidentify myself, though I was fine with others doing so. The Internet is, after all, a meta-reality; not entirely alternate, but certainly a reality which is altered. And those alterations make it a garment that is both revealing and surprizingly enabling.

Whenever I tried such an alternate identity, I became intensly self-conscious of my ‘deceit’. Add to this a dash of embarrassment about my chosen alias whenever I compared it with a truly clever alias, and I was done with it. Burgwinkel I became again, and stayed.

I do not want to pose as something I am not—which is a temptation for me—any more than I already do in everyday non-virtual life. I reveal (and conceal) enough already without nicknames like BearBottom, NeedStr8ning, or angelstruggle. There is enough misunderstanding in the universe already. Maybe I should allow for a degree of privacy in defense of certain personal boundaries. But I suffer the common affliction of reticence to put myself first. Besides, I have always been willing to go to irrational extremes in persuit of harmony. It is ironic that that willingness would result in a discordant life.

Enough psychobabble. You are not getting paid for psychotherapy, and I would probably refuse the advice, anyway. I will start a new self.

I will start a diet based on spending; buy all sorts of things I want until I have no money for food.

I will, in my increasingly svelt form, excercise more, including extensive winter bicycling (for which I have purchased studded bicycle tires—see previous).

I will—near death from starvation and exposure, on a silent snowy night on some road far away—conclude these methods were folly.

I just hope I remeber these mistakes in my next life.