cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

waffling

I’m not usually so indecisive. This whole stalker thing has gotten me so twitterpated that I can’t concentrate on what I really want to do with my website. On the one hand, I don’t want to give up a hobby because some idiot can’t play well with others. On the other hand, I don’t like knowing that he – and anyone, really – can read all about me, find out my plans, find out when I’m out of town, etc.

The positive feedback I get from my website has been important to me in the past. I don’t think it should play a key role to my development of self-esteem; that has to come from within, and I’m making strides there. I go through serious cycles of extending myself and withdrawing, as anyone who’s known me for a year or so can verify. The negative feedback bemuses me. I’m used to slipping under the radar, being white and not poverty-stricken in an area populated by nouveau riche. I gave up dressing outlandishly because it was as uncomfortable as dressing in polo shirts and khakis. I don’t usually voice political views on my site, nor spiritual ones, although I have many of each. Why, then, someone would single me out for vilification is bewildering to me.

Is it because I’m too nice? Do I give the impression of being easily swayed, changed, or convinced? Do I lack common sense? Do I trust too quickly?

I cannot believe that I am a fool. I take care of myself; I work hard; I have meaningful friendships and a wonderful relationship. I seek truth; I help other creatures on the planet; I respect my elders. Does this make me a target? These things my parents taught me to be – were they setting me up for abuse?

I’m so tired of all of this. I know, I know: just ignore it, but how would you feel if you didn’t know what was waiting for you every time you opened your email inbox? “Treat it like spam,” a friend counsels. The worst spam ever accused me of was not having a large enough penis.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

∞