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I didn’t know that WP tracks the search terms that bring people to your blog. Although now that I do know, I am displeased to have discovered that the only logged terms that brought someone to me in the last month were “Blutengel devil worship”.

Thanks, South Africa, for that. *rolls eyes*

…it’s been a while since I’ve considered that. The whole business of people thinking I’m into something like, for instance, Devil worship. Or whatever else Goth might bring to mind.

I think I’m finally, after spending all my teens and young adulthood trying to make it happen, becoming unconcerned with what people think of me. I just want to be what I am and be interested in what I’m interested in and not bother anyone or be bothered by anyone…

I don’t know what changed it…I used to spend hours and days and nights and weeks being anxious about people thinking that I was something they didn’t like–too negative, too quiet, too morbid, too melancholy, maybe devil-worshipping, maybe gay, maybe too unemotional, maybe too irrational–and now it hardly phases me at all.

There was a time when I could not have bourne something like the persistent allusions to Nazism. It wasn’t even that long ago. Last winter, at least. Probably into last spring.

But what now? Where did it go?

No idea.

It wasn’t my Wolf…he won’t take credit for it…can’t, as I have been him for several years now and this is a fairly new trend…

I just don’t know what it could have been within the last year or so that finally enabled me to achieve a level of self-acceptance that would enable me to stop…not stop caring, because I still care what people think…but…”being concerned” is maybe a better way to put it. I’m not concerned about people’s perceptions hurting me. Because they can’t, I guess. They see what they see. And who cares?

Maybe…maybe what happened is that I finally accepted that nobody will ever see what I am Really Like. Except for me. I know what I am like. And have people’s perceptions been wrong? Hell yes. But also…no. I suppose I am a little bit of all the things people have said I am and that I never wanted to be.

It’s all very complicated, and I can’t make it make sense. Or maybe that is only happening because I think it sounds bad to say I just stopped caring, and I want to explain it away.

Oh well.