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I've noticed something about words, which is that what they mean to me is usually colored by their previous uses. Certain words, because I never used them to describe my own experiences are apparently defined by how others have used them. In my apathy I've found that words have a weaker meaning than before. I don't understand many of them and have to investigate them to figure out what they mean. Certain words are more unrecognizable than others.
The other thing about words is that they usually help me to understand myself. Vocabulary helps to describe an experience to myself or another person accurately. So I feel I'm limited in what I can understand about myself when the meaning of certain things has been hijacked with false meaning. It actually makes sense why nothing makes sense. I'm blind to what's there because it's disguised by another meaning which is false.
In a world where people often define things according to their experience before I have the chance to relate those words to my own experiences, it seems like I'm limited. My thoughts are structured by those words. My conscious expression of myself is limited. What others see is usually what they assert strongly to be true about me, which means that what I think about myself is actually, at least in part, what others think about me. What I seem to express isn't always actually me. What I think I am isn't always what I actually am.
Basically, what I'm trying to get at is that redefinition is key to my own authority of myself. Which is everything.
Super seriously at times these days, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the cage I have built for myself and the anxiety that comes with it. I always have lacked commitment to making absolute serious statements about myself because I'm not attached enough yet to what I am to stress out about defining it constantly. I feel as I said years ago, that identity is an illusion. Not necessarily in a bad or good sense but just in a, that's what it is to me sense.
I operate under the assumption that reality is not a solid thing. See, being kin for me is not something that in itself I feel I can learn much, but the path itself has led me to new experiences and it is those experiences through which I've learned.
I guess that's why to be honest, I could care less about my deerkin identity. My affection for it I think was just familiarity. I feel that identity is something made solid only through my interactions with others, and while I do not strongly deny it, I don't exactly strongly claim it either.
All identity boils down to, for me, is having something to call myself. Having something to associate myself with. My sole purpose for seeking identity is to keep others from deciding it for me. But I've found that people will try to define me however they want, regardless.
The fog inside my head may have lifted, but I still find that I'm very much unwritten.
It no longer feels like a benefit though, but a burden, a detriment, just something that's in the way.