internet horror stories


 

I can't say that it is my ambition in life to become anyone's internet horror story, but I realize that the more social contact I have with people, the more likely I am to be perceived in certain ways.

The images on this page represent my attempts to process my recent experiences with socialization. What does it all mean?

I think it means that I feel like a freak, but that I like being a freak.

There's a certain amount of my personality that fits well in social settings. It's not a big part, but it's probably enough to get by for a while. And then..

Even in the best case scenario, when communication seems to be going reasonably well, and friendships and bonds seem to be forming, it's like the website and all it represents sort of lurks in the shadows as a kind of time bomb. Who would ever be 'proud' to mention their friend Xesce? I think most, in describing me, would probably find themselves feeling a bit uncomfortable, and might not want others to know about my site.. and might hope that eventually I will grow out of it, once I've had the chance to express what I need to express. Others might feel very embarrassed of/for me, and still others might sum it up more or less: 'check out this psycho'.






How can it be that I've been on the internet all these years, and until now had very little experience with either IM or voice IM? It's because once I discovered email, I no longer felt powerless, inarticulate and inept. I realize that most people value spontaneity, but for me, spontaneity meant that I was at the mercy of instincts and anxiety. I had no power to assert my underlying beliefs or to even access them in most cases. Time could go on, and I would not be directing my life, and I would not feel satisfied that enough of 'me' was seen by others.

In focusing for years on email, an imbalance was created. It took someone unusually gifted to guide me into IM and voice, and even though at first I kept saying 'this is completely unnatural for me', and I would struggle a lot with feelings of imbecility when what I would express did not always match up with my beliefs and conscious efforts to be the kind of person I want to be, I could see the value in it, and that it was challenging me in ways I have not been challenged before.




 

When I go through the process of creating images now, I know that the people I am in contact with will not relate to what I'm doing, and might actually be seriously turned off by it. And yet.. I find a kind of perverse pleasure in carrying on anyway.






Again, I am making a decision to create my own internal world, and to try to find what I need there, because 'reality' is not satisfying to me. But, if I could handle more spontaneous communication, does that not also suggest I could take it a step further and eventually try out 'real life' relationships again? This one is a lot less realistic. I don't feel a very strong incentive to do so.






Often I can see the cues, I know my lines, I know how to flirt back, and I just can't do it. I suppose it's one thing to spend years reading scientific texts about sex, and techniques, and searching out erotica, and another to be able to connect that with actual experience. And I do get that whatever is missing, whether it's something technical or something psychological, it's up to me to explain and express that, but what if doing so would be like forcing someone to take up a master's degree in me? It's not realistic.






I'm letting go, withdrawing. And maybe I've always only been able to handle small bits of contact, and I feed off that for years to come.




 

It happens in different ways, it's not always the same, and usually it's obvious to me at the start, and yet I try to be open.. and then that look, or realization that I am seen as something sick, or damaged or unappealing. Those who want to live know they can, and must 'do better' than me. Will they understand one day what I am saying, will they understand the years of decisions to question and leave 'normal' life?

Most people want ongoing relationships. Many will even accept our differences, or that I have expressed I do not wish for my life to continue, but one of the implications of this is usually that every day I have to live with the awareness that I do not really make sense to others. I will never have an acknowledgment that the conclusions I have reached make sense, considering my circumstances.

I have come to care for a few individuals, each in different ways. With one I have gone further with communication than I have in many, many years, and the idea that it naturally cannot be sustained is very painful. And yet here, I still write about all of it in a fairly clinical kind of way.

For most people, it seems that the definition of love includes that it is ongoing, and not something that can only live and breathe for an intense moment, and/or in special circumstances. And I suppose that no one believes I ever really cared for them, or that that caring was worth anything they can recognize. From a distance, I can continue to recognize the essence of what I shared with someone, although I realize it might not be the same for the other.




 

These photos are no less fake than the ones above them, and in a sense they are more fake, because they probably give a misleading idea about who I think I am and what I want. It is one thing to spend some time exploring the concept of identity, and to eventually become more comfortable with who I am, but this phase has not passed, and I think what it means is that part of my identity is about constantly challenging identity, and the rules, behaviours and roles of all humans.

Whether I'm communicating with others, or just on my own, sometimes I do think I hear my voice.




->exile on meme st: a diary
->xesce.net

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