On the agenda for tomorrow: Continue to ridicule my song-writing ability, then attempt to do something useful with my guitar, considering the crap lyrics I managed to spit out tonight.
On the agenda for the week: Find a sunny day and go hang out in Mt. Vernon, because I think I could stand to do so.
On the agenda for the year: Visit family in Phoenix, AZ, then take an overnight trip to Mexico where I shall buy prescription drugs, and attempt to contract a tapeworm, nature's miracle weight-loss cure.
But now, I sleep.
(DB) out.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
things that are weird
I opened Safari and typed "blogger" before I typed "myspace." After months and months, maybe all this blogging is working.
Or maybe I've learned that when I don't have any new emails, I really don't have anything new on Myspace.
Today I worked, and went to Denny's. It's funny because everyone alive decided to go there. Given that it's a Monday night, it was a little weird. Although all the regulars were there, and we exchanged knowing glances about all the idiots filling in the tables between us.
Translucent Metaphor Day was not very translucent, nor very metaphorical.
You know, I'm not really feeling the blogness right now. So maybe I'll holler later.
(DB) out.
Or maybe I've learned that when I don't have any new emails, I really don't have anything new on Myspace.
Today I worked, and went to Denny's. It's funny because everyone alive decided to go there. Given that it's a Monday night, it was a little weird. Although all the regulars were there, and we exchanged knowing glances about all the idiots filling in the tables between us.
Translucent Metaphor Day was not very translucent, nor very metaphorical.
You know, I'm not really feeling the blogness right now. So maybe I'll holler later.
(DB) out.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Jan. 30 is Translucent Metaphor Day
karma- It would figure. The one night I start to think, "you know, I'm not gonna sit on my ass and watch TV, I'm gonna listen to The MoPod Show and tend to my blog," bam. No MoPod Show update. It would figure, as I haven't updated my own blog in a couple days.
The past few days have been eventful / not at all. I spent a lot of time watching Firefly, a sci-fi show that surprisingly enough, flew under my radar long enough that a feature film release brought it to my attention. It only ran for one season, and all 15 episodes are available OnDemand. Friday night, I didn't leave the house.
My sleep schedule's reversed itself over the course of the past few weeks. I've been working more nights than I was before, so now, the late-night hours are my afternoon. At least that's how it would seem. I don't know how I feel about that, but as long as i'm getting something close to enough sleep, I guess that's okay.
I've been on an emotional rollercoaster with Nameless Boy. I really think I must be a girl or something. I worry about things. He redeems himself with a few well-chosen words, not even knowing that's what he's doing. I stop worrying, then a few days later, it all repeats itself over again.
Everyone remember A and B days from middle/high school? It feels something like that. A Days = everything's fine in my head, B days = everything's going straight to hell, in my head.
This is probably because there's not enough going on in the world outside of my head for me to analyze or base any thought processes on.
I've been told before to stop thinking, and to just feel. Weird scenario: The presence of certain emotions doesn't fluctuate very much, but how much I'm affected by it certainly does.
Sailboats only move when there's wind filling their sails. And try though as we do, none of us can say with any certainty when wind is coming.
I'd almost declare it another Short Paragraph Day, but it's already been used up. Maybe today is "translucent metaphor day." Not transparent, because even though it doesn't take too much to see what I mean, it's not immediately apparent what exactly I'm referring to.
I think I'm going to take a nap now, because I've nothing else to do and every baby step I take towards getting my sleep schedule back to normal is a good step.
Random thought of the moment: I want to put on nice clothes and go out on a date, that isn't to Sushi Hana. That's more of a sanctuary for me now. Take me somewhere with nice food, low lights, and unobtrusive ambient music. I want to feel... you know, that ellipsis could just as well be a period.
(DB) out.
The past few days have been eventful / not at all. I spent a lot of time watching Firefly, a sci-fi show that surprisingly enough, flew under my radar long enough that a feature film release brought it to my attention. It only ran for one season, and all 15 episodes are available OnDemand. Friday night, I didn't leave the house.
My sleep schedule's reversed itself over the course of the past few weeks. I've been working more nights than I was before, so now, the late-night hours are my afternoon. At least that's how it would seem. I don't know how I feel about that, but as long as i'm getting something close to enough sleep, I guess that's okay.
I've been on an emotional rollercoaster with Nameless Boy. I really think I must be a girl or something. I worry about things. He redeems himself with a few well-chosen words, not even knowing that's what he's doing. I stop worrying, then a few days later, it all repeats itself over again.
Everyone remember A and B days from middle/high school? It feels something like that. A Days = everything's fine in my head, B days = everything's going straight to hell, in my head.
This is probably because there's not enough going on in the world outside of my head for me to analyze or base any thought processes on.
I've been told before to stop thinking, and to just feel. Weird scenario: The presence of certain emotions doesn't fluctuate very much, but how much I'm affected by it certainly does.
Sailboats only move when there's wind filling their sails. And try though as we do, none of us can say with any certainty when wind is coming.
I'd almost declare it another Short Paragraph Day, but it's already been used up. Maybe today is "translucent metaphor day." Not transparent, because even though it doesn't take too much to see what I mean, it's not immediately apparent what exactly I'm referring to.
I think I'm going to take a nap now, because I've nothing else to do and every baby step I take towards getting my sleep schedule back to normal is a good step.
Random thought of the moment: I want to put on nice clothes and go out on a date, that isn't to Sushi Hana. That's more of a sanctuary for me now. Take me somewhere with nice food, low lights, and unobtrusive ambient music. I want to feel... you know, that ellipsis could just as well be a period.
(DB) out.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Blogger = still down
Blogger still shouldn't be down. I'd planned my day around the outage, making sure I wouldn't be anywhere near a computer, lest I'd be tempted to check for updates, or post one myself.
The soundtrack for right now is Zero 7. I haven't decided how much I like the album as a whole, but a few songs stick out in my mind as memorable.
However, far more memorable is Tracey Ullman's "They Don't Know."
But, my "Decommissioned Mixtape" playlist just got dusted off. (Not like it ever had enough time to collect dust anyway- I've probably renamed it an average of once every two weeks.)
The past two days have been filled with friends busting down my front door, demanding that I hang out with them. Not that there hasn't been some degree of prior planning- I'm just a heavy sleeper, and sometimes my cell phone isn't the best alarm clock.
Highlights of today included going to Arundel Mills, playing around with a video game that involved ceiling-mounted projectors and cameras. Think of it as kickball meets advertisement meets holodeck. It was sheerly amazing.
Then, we went to the Dollar Store and bought a collection of random items. We're now in the process of incorporating all these items into a game of sorts, and we've made a bit of progress. Also, ate ramen noodles that tasted of chocolate and caramel. ??? Yeah, I know.
On that note, adding Hershey's syrup to a spoonful of ramen is not as nasty as it sounds. Well, perhaps if the syrup is augmenting a flavor already present in the ramen.
MSG headaches, as evidenced by my status message for the evening, suck ass.
Despite today being less boring than others, and filled with simple amusement, I felt a little more numb than usual. I don't know why. Seeing all my friends reminds me of the first 20 minutes of Garden State, as if popping back up from a not-so-illustrious different life, and seeing everything blossom around me the way it once did. There's not much that's changed aside from the petty details.
Who's dating who, who lives where, who works where, all variations on a theme. But, who loves who hasn't changed. Who hates who hasn't changed. Who feels what hasn't changed at all. And who does what in their spare time could've been ripped from someone's LiveJournal, be it yesterday, or five years ago.
I'd make reference to feeling like I'm looking from inside a bell jar, if that wouldn't immediately conjure up too many Sylvia Plath images. But oops, I just did.
Right now, it's 4:17am and I should probably be getting to sleep soon. Whether or not this is actually the case, I feel like I've got a lot to think about. This is one of those days where I don't mind going to bed with a lot going on in my head.
(DB) out.
The soundtrack for right now is Zero 7. I haven't decided how much I like the album as a whole, but a few songs stick out in my mind as memorable.
However, far more memorable is Tracey Ullman's "They Don't Know."
But, my "Decommissioned Mixtape" playlist just got dusted off. (Not like it ever had enough time to collect dust anyway- I've probably renamed it an average of once every two weeks.)
The past two days have been filled with friends busting down my front door, demanding that I hang out with them. Not that there hasn't been some degree of prior planning- I'm just a heavy sleeper, and sometimes my cell phone isn't the best alarm clock.
Highlights of today included going to Arundel Mills, playing around with a video game that involved ceiling-mounted projectors and cameras. Think of it as kickball meets advertisement meets holodeck. It was sheerly amazing.
Then, we went to the Dollar Store and bought a collection of random items. We're now in the process of incorporating all these items into a game of sorts, and we've made a bit of progress. Also, ate ramen noodles that tasted of chocolate and caramel. ??? Yeah, I know.
On that note, adding Hershey's syrup to a spoonful of ramen is not as nasty as it sounds. Well, perhaps if the syrup is augmenting a flavor already present in the ramen.
MSG headaches, as evidenced by my status message for the evening, suck ass.
Despite today being less boring than others, and filled with simple amusement, I felt a little more numb than usual. I don't know why. Seeing all my friends reminds me of the first 20 minutes of Garden State, as if popping back up from a not-so-illustrious different life, and seeing everything blossom around me the way it once did. There's not much that's changed aside from the petty details.
Who's dating who, who lives where, who works where, all variations on a theme. But, who loves who hasn't changed. Who hates who hasn't changed. Who feels what hasn't changed at all. And who does what in their spare time could've been ripped from someone's LiveJournal, be it yesterday, or five years ago.
I'd make reference to feeling like I'm looking from inside a bell jar, if that wouldn't immediately conjure up too many Sylvia Plath images. But oops, I just did.
Right now, it's 4:17am and I should probably be getting to sleep soon. Whether or not this is actually the case, I feel like I've got a lot to think about. This is one of those days where I don't mind going to bed with a lot going on in my head.
(DB) out.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Jan. 25 is Short Paragraphs Day
I started writing this entry earlier, and failed. I think I opened too many browser tabs at once, and closed them all without knowing.
Tonight I hung out with Jinah, watched Eddie Izzard, ate Chinese food with Louise et al., , then drove around in the countryside waxing poetic about life. Highlights include some deer and a really confused rabbit, who decided to run in front of us before choosing a side of the road to escape to.
We also got to drive through Loch Raven, which just recently opened back up from its four-year "construction" period. Word around here is that it wasn't actually closed for construction, because it closed immediately after a certain event on a mid-September day, about five years ago.
Why is it that I'm so paranoid about the powers that be, that I deliberately avoid using certain words, out of fear they'll be flagged and I'll have a file built on me, my phone calls, and what websites I go to, in the name of national security?
Well, call me paranoid, but given the whole "spying on the public" controversy, and now the subpoena for a record of all Google searches in a certain range of time? Nothing is sacred anymore.
Tangents aside, it was an unexpected pleasure to be able to see the dam again. I think the last time I was there, I was with my granddad, before he went blind.
I also talked to Nameless Boy today. I'd call the conversation ambiguous, semi-optimistic, and certainly not over. More details later, maybe. Or maybe not.
Tomorrow, (well, today) I'm going to Annapolis with Mike and Jacque, neither of whom I've seen since New Years. It's been blast from the past month.
Now, I'm going to sleep.
(DB) out.
Tonight I hung out with Jinah, watched Eddie Izzard, ate Chinese food with Louise et al., , then drove around in the countryside waxing poetic about life. Highlights include some deer and a really confused rabbit, who decided to run in front of us before choosing a side of the road to escape to.
We also got to drive through Loch Raven, which just recently opened back up from its four-year "construction" period. Word around here is that it wasn't actually closed for construction, because it closed immediately after a certain event on a mid-September day, about five years ago.
Why is it that I'm so paranoid about the powers that be, that I deliberately avoid using certain words, out of fear they'll be flagged and I'll have a file built on me, my phone calls, and what websites I go to, in the name of national security?
Well, call me paranoid, but given the whole "spying on the public" controversy, and now the subpoena for a record of all Google searches in a certain range of time? Nothing is sacred anymore.
Tangents aside, it was an unexpected pleasure to be able to see the dam again. I think the last time I was there, I was with my granddad, before he went blind.
I also talked to Nameless Boy today. I'd call the conversation ambiguous, semi-optimistic, and certainly not over. More details later, maybe. Or maybe not.
Tomorrow, (well, today) I'm going to Annapolis with Mike and Jacque, neither of whom I've seen since New Years. It's been blast from the past month.
Now, I'm going to sleep.
(DB) out.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
things that don't suck
Going to Denny's with Tabby and eating junk food, and whining about boys.
Gratuitously abusing Photoshop, earning Devlin's scorn yet again.
The fact that my parents just discovered my brother's grades for last semester, and his lies and excess are soon to come to an end.
Also, the fact that karma is catching up to him. Homophobia is frowned upon by the real gods, who are probably all at least bi.
Not opening up one's computer because aside from not ever being able to take it anywhere again (ARGH) it still functions as a desktop
These are things that don't suck.
Aside from that, I've got no idea what's going on with me. The next two days promise to hold more laundry, and slightly more frustration about not being able to lug my computer everywhere in the house. My dad seems to think this is a good thing, as I'll be forced to explore life outside of the little off-white box I call home. I think he's wrong, and it'll just force me to discover a more intimate view of my room.
thom was preparing his podcast earlier (that links to his RSS feed, kiddies, so get a decent browser), and he read a poem that really hit home for me. Usually when I read his poems, some of them make sense and some of them don't. And I can't commit to religiously listening to more than one podcast at a time, so I rarely hear his poetry spoken. But the words flowed and evoked a not-so-dormant set of feelings from my cold, bitter heart.
Whether the words belong to you or not, sometimes it's euphoric to feel as one with language.
That and, from what thom said, there might be some Kelly Clarkson being howled, a capella, in the background. Three guesses as to who was unknowingly responsible for that.
I think I'm gonna get some rest. Even though I slept like a baby last night, I feel like I'm still not entirely caught up from the weekend. A demain,
(DB) out.
Gratuitously abusing Photoshop, earning Devlin's scorn yet again.
The fact that my parents just discovered my brother's grades for last semester, and his lies and excess are soon to come to an end.
Also, the fact that karma is catching up to him. Homophobia is frowned upon by the real gods, who are probably all at least bi.
Not opening up one's computer because aside from not ever being able to take it anywhere again (ARGH) it still functions as a desktop
These are things that don't suck.
Aside from that, I've got no idea what's going on with me. The next two days promise to hold more laundry, and slightly more frustration about not being able to lug my computer everywhere in the house. My dad seems to think this is a good thing, as I'll be forced to explore life outside of the little off-white box I call home. I think he's wrong, and it'll just force me to discover a more intimate view of my room.
thom was preparing his podcast earlier (that links to his RSS feed, kiddies, so get a decent browser), and he read a poem that really hit home for me. Usually when I read his poems, some of them make sense and some of them don't. And I can't commit to religiously listening to more than one podcast at a time, so I rarely hear his poetry spoken. But the words flowed and evoked a not-so-dormant set of feelings from my cold, bitter heart.
Whether the words belong to you or not, sometimes it's euphoric to feel as one with language.
That and, from what thom said, there might be some Kelly Clarkson being howled, a capella, in the background. Three guesses as to who was unknowingly responsible for that.
I think I'm gonna get some rest. Even though I slept like a baby last night, I feel like I'm still not entirely caught up from the weekend. A demain,
(DB) out.
Monday, January 23, 2006
things that suck
Today has not been my day.
Short in my display cable makes it so I can't open laptop past 80 degree angle. Can barely read screen. And there's no way I can afford a new computer, period. And even if I could afford a Mac mini, I can't envision life without a laptop.
My car is still on the fritz.
I left my lunch at home, and am now at work until 8:00, with nothing in my stomach.
Today blows.
Tonight, I'm going to back up my hard drive, procure beer and some screwdrivers, and attempt to take my baby apart. The beer is in case I don't succeed.
I'd hoped my iBook would die in a blaze of glory, or at least in a fashion I'd be able to talk about. "Yeah, I dropped it in the toilet," or "yeah, it fell off a cliff," or "yeah, eaten by grizzlies." Not "display started malfunctioning at complete random."
If I fail, I'm pulling the logic board, sealing it up in a box (in case I need it later), and giving my baby a proper Viking burial. She's not dying like this.
(DB) out.
Short in my display cable makes it so I can't open laptop past 80 degree angle. Can barely read screen. And there's no way I can afford a new computer, period. And even if I could afford a Mac mini, I can't envision life without a laptop.
My car is still on the fritz.
I left my lunch at home, and am now at work until 8:00, with nothing in my stomach.
Today blows.
Tonight, I'm going to back up my hard drive, procure beer and some screwdrivers, and attempt to take my baby apart. The beer is in case I don't succeed.
I'd hoped my iBook would die in a blaze of glory, or at least in a fashion I'd be able to talk about. "Yeah, I dropped it in the toilet," or "yeah, it fell off a cliff," or "yeah, eaten by grizzlies." Not "display started malfunctioning at complete random."
If I fail, I'm pulling the logic board, sealing it up in a box (in case I need it later), and giving my baby a proper Viking burial. She's not dying like this.
(DB) out.
Reflection
Seems as though the vacation is over.
It feels like I took a trip back in time, to a point in my life where riding shotgun for hours with no destination was all I did. The most commonly uttered statement was always "(blank) said they'd call back in ten minutes, but I doubt it." It was all about finding comfort in groups, stepping back from where our lives are individually, and being losers together.
I feel like, if I couldn't have gone to Deep Creek, at least I got in touch with people and feelings I haven't entertained for a while.
Also, to take a phrase from Courtney, last night I finally slept the way my body wanted to sleep. I woke up at 9pm on Saturday and stayed awake until 3pm Sunday, then remained awake from 6pm to 10:30pm. And then I slept like a mofo, and it was good.
Off to find something to eat, then go to work.
(DB) out.
It feels like I took a trip back in time, to a point in my life where riding shotgun for hours with no destination was all I did. The most commonly uttered statement was always "(blank) said they'd call back in ten minutes, but I doubt it." It was all about finding comfort in groups, stepping back from where our lives are individually, and being losers together.
I feel like, if I couldn't have gone to Deep Creek, at least I got in touch with people and feelings I haven't entertained for a while.
Also, to take a phrase from Courtney, last night I finally slept the way my body wanted to sleep. I woke up at 9pm on Saturday and stayed awake until 3pm Sunday, then remained awake from 6pm to 10:30pm. And then I slept like a mofo, and it was good.
Off to find something to eat, then go to work.
(DB) out.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
The Secret Life of my AIM Client
12:58:46 PM Horny Guy: hi
1:08:20 PM Horny Guy: do you want to hangout today?
1:10:06 PM Me: whos this
1:10:19 PM Horny Guy: **** we talked a long time ago
1:10:54 PM Me: didnt you want to hook up and i said i dont really do that?
1:11:13 PM Horny Guy: no
1:11:20 PM Horny Guy: i wanted to hangout
...sure...
1:16:43 PM Horny Guy: so what you looking for
1:17:04 PM Me: i've got no idea
1:17:26 PM Horny Guy: u gay or bi
1:17:29 PM Me: gay
1:17:36 PM Horny Guy: r u a virgin
1:17:42 PM Me: hah
1:17:44 PM Me: no
you really are a complete stranger.
1:17:47 PM Horny Guy: what u into
1:17:54 PM Horny Guy: top or bottom
1:18:00 PM Me: depends
1:18:21 PM Horny Guy: i'm vers ;-)
1:18:28 PM Horny Guy: stats
insert sound of crickets chirping here
1:20:16 PM Me: uh. i gotta say, this seems really unengaging. like i know this is stuff one gets out of the way, when sex is considered
1:20:40 PM Me: but right now, sex is as far from my mind as it really could be
1:20:58 PM Horny Guy: ok bye
1:08:20 PM Horny Guy: do you want to hangout today?
1:10:06 PM Me: whos this
1:10:19 PM Horny Guy: **** we talked a long time ago
1:10:54 PM Me: didnt you want to hook up and i said i dont really do that?
1:11:13 PM Horny Guy: no
1:11:20 PM Horny Guy: i wanted to hangout
...sure...
1:16:43 PM Horny Guy: so what you looking for
1:17:04 PM Me: i've got no idea
1:17:26 PM Horny Guy: u gay or bi
1:17:29 PM Me: gay
1:17:36 PM Horny Guy: r u a virgin
1:17:42 PM Me: hah
1:17:44 PM Me: no
you really are a complete stranger.
1:17:47 PM Horny Guy: what u into
1:17:54 PM Horny Guy: top or bottom
1:18:00 PM Me: depends
1:18:21 PM Horny Guy: i'm vers ;-)
1:18:28 PM Horny Guy: stats
insert sound of crickets chirping here
1:20:16 PM Me: uh. i gotta say, this seems really unengaging. like i know this is stuff one gets out of the way, when sex is considered
1:20:40 PM Me: but right now, sex is as far from my mind as it really could be
1:20:58 PM Horny Guy: ok bye
A Long-Winded Dialogue with Myself. Wisdom by Devlin.
After large amounts of indecision, tonight became "Buy a Cheesy Porn Night" again. The way I figure, if we keep going at this pace, we'll all have a rather sizable adult film library by the end of the year. Sizable enough, I hope, to sell on eBay.
I think, in a blog entry about a year ago, I said something about a conspiracy on the part of McDonald's, trying to get every single human in the world to enjoy the tastes of ketchup and mustard. Somewhere, someone decided it'd be more cost-effective for everyone in the world to like those condiments. And so each burger that leaves the drive-thru window will leave smothered in red and yellow. Not that anyone asked for it.
Tomorrow, I have to do a ton of laundry. I'm going to chalk this up under "reasons going to Deep Creek was a stupid, bad idea anyway... yeah...," because apparently my dad was planning on busting into my room and throwing out all my dirty laundry. While I like the idea of not having to actually deal with the laundry myself, I don't feel like letting one bad pair of shoes taint (and therefore destroy) all my otherwise decent clothes that deserve to live.
I also think it might be a decent idea to sacrifice a goat at midnight, and spread its blood in a circle around my cable modem and router.
I don't know if this makes me extra weird, but when I've got headphones on, if the stereo channels aren't balanced well, it feels like there's a knife in my brain. It's almost as bad as the sound from a CRT TV, when it's on, but isn't displaying anything. That I can strangely hear from anywere on the same floor as the TV.
Like, it's done to simulate panning across an area for effect, that's fine. But guitars on the left and vocals on the right is aurally lethal. Unless the vocals can match the loudness of the guitar...
No matter how awesome The Low Life can be, I want to mildly slap around whoever usually sits in front of their mixing board.
While talking with Jinah and Dave over some liquor that tasted and smelled of ravioli (Creme de Cassis?), I thought about that nameless boy who'd hurt me last month, and how he apologized on New Years Day. Dave was eager to remind me that I'd once said all it would take is one halfway-decent apology and he'd be out of the doghouse. While I don't quite think that's true, I wonder if I've shut out the possibility of giving him a chance, and why that is.
Now, I'll present my thoughts in the dichotomous style they always seem to take.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: I appreciate his apology. But he still hurt me. And once a jerk, always a jerk. It doesn't matter if I liked him. I feel like he made it clear he wasn't ready to deliver on any reciprocation in that department. God, asshole. But seriously. I'll get over it. Just because he was awesome at times doesn't make all the bad times worth forgiving entirely.
Hopeless Romantic Self: But, you know, maybe the apology was an attempt at reconciliation. As unlikely as it sounds, maybe he really does regret how he conducted himself and wish to make amends. The sign that he took responsibility for it all out of the blue should say something.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: But, the fact that it took this long to dawn on him that he'd made a mistake should say something as well.
Hopeless Romantic Self: People make mistakes. I shouldn't automatically shut him out. Plus, I remember how I felt with him. When we were together, it was amazing, if ephemeral.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Anyone who makes me feel that amazing, who deserves to be that close to me, should also be able to find time to call me within the week afterwards.
Both Selves: Before anyone calls me a slut, we didn't have sex, or do anything of that nature.
Hopeless Romantic Self: It was just... chick flick mushy pillow talk. There was footsie, for God's sake.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Innocent footsie. But seriously, just because I feel like that series of moments was perfect doesn't mean he did. I should know. I'm certainly no stranger to acting like things are important to me. Like Devlin said, karma is biting me in the ass. Just in the reverse order that it should. So, I should cut my losses and move on.
Hopeless Romantic Self: Jinah and Dave said I'd never really know unless I gave it a try. I really don't even know all the details behind his actions, or lack thereof. I should at least ask what was going on with that.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: But, the details that I do know are enough. I remember how I felt when he ignored me. I can't imagine what I'd feel if he just said, "that apology was all bullshit, I just didn't want any guilt following me into the new year. I wasn't all that into you." I don't think I could take that, but I'd deserve it if I were fool enough to leave myself vulnerable to that kind of letdown.
Hopeless Romantic Self: I'll never know unless I try. That and, shit. Could I just be shutting him out for that exact reason? Am I just afraid of getting hurt? I mean, if I am, it's justified. But am I forcing myself to keep my distance from anyone that might be able to damage me?
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Of course I am, idiot. What's this whole line of reasoning been about, anyway? Shit. Fear aside, I'd have called him by now, just out of curiousity. If he said I was never all that important to him, I'd tell him to fuck off and go on with my day. At least I'd know.
Hopeless Romantic Self: So, in matters of romance, callousness and pragmatism are really just big, fancy words to make it easier to rationalize fear?
Callous, Pragmatic Self: I should know this already from watching "Donnie Darko." Even though Donnie dismissed it as bullshit, the idea that fear and love are the polar extremes at each end of the emotional spectrum isn't all that ludicrous.
Both Selves: Well, I hope you've enjoyed this. Now back to your regularly scheduled faux sanity.
Maybe I'll dwell on that. Love and fear, when viewed as polar extremes, could influence each other in equal and inverse fashions.
And then, to take a page out of Devlin's book, every interaction I've ever had, and every one I will have, will be at the most basic level, between myself and someone else.
Applied to my current situation in the simplest fashion: Fear can get in the way of love. And no matter how much I talk to myself about what happened, there's still someone out there who hasn't had his say.
I guess I just answered my own question. I do truly thank God or whoever for the gift of introspection, sometimes.
Disclaimer from both Selves: Just because the word "love" was used doesn't mean that I'm actually in love with Nameless Boy. If I had to pick a word, and I had to choose the single one that applied at this exact moment, I'd pick "preoccupied." That is all.
(DB) out.
I think, in a blog entry about a year ago, I said something about a conspiracy on the part of McDonald's, trying to get every single human in the world to enjoy the tastes of ketchup and mustard. Somewhere, someone decided it'd be more cost-effective for everyone in the world to like those condiments. And so each burger that leaves the drive-thru window will leave smothered in red and yellow. Not that anyone asked for it.
Tomorrow, I have to do a ton of laundry. I'm going to chalk this up under "reasons going to Deep Creek was a stupid, bad idea anyway... yeah...," because apparently my dad was planning on busting into my room and throwing out all my dirty laundry. While I like the idea of not having to actually deal with the laundry myself, I don't feel like letting one bad pair of shoes taint (and therefore destroy) all my otherwise decent clothes that deserve to live.
I also think it might be a decent idea to sacrifice a goat at midnight, and spread its blood in a circle around my cable modem and router.
I don't know if this makes me extra weird, but when I've got headphones on, if the stereo channels aren't balanced well, it feels like there's a knife in my brain. It's almost as bad as the sound from a CRT TV, when it's on, but isn't displaying anything. That I can strangely hear from anywere on the same floor as the TV.
Like, it's done to simulate panning across an area for effect, that's fine. But guitars on the left and vocals on the right is aurally lethal. Unless the vocals can match the loudness of the guitar...
No matter how awesome The Low Life can be, I want to mildly slap around whoever usually sits in front of their mixing board.
While talking with Jinah and Dave over some liquor that tasted and smelled of ravioli (Creme de Cassis?), I thought about that nameless boy who'd hurt me last month, and how he apologized on New Years Day. Dave was eager to remind me that I'd once said all it would take is one halfway-decent apology and he'd be out of the doghouse. While I don't quite think that's true, I wonder if I've shut out the possibility of giving him a chance, and why that is.
Now, I'll present my thoughts in the dichotomous style they always seem to take.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: I appreciate his apology. But he still hurt me. And once a jerk, always a jerk. It doesn't matter if I liked him. I feel like he made it clear he wasn't ready to deliver on any reciprocation in that department. God, asshole. But seriously. I'll get over it. Just because he was awesome at times doesn't make all the bad times worth forgiving entirely.
Hopeless Romantic Self: But, you know, maybe the apology was an attempt at reconciliation. As unlikely as it sounds, maybe he really does regret how he conducted himself and wish to make amends. The sign that he took responsibility for it all out of the blue should say something.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: But, the fact that it took this long to dawn on him that he'd made a mistake should say something as well.
Hopeless Romantic Self: People make mistakes. I shouldn't automatically shut him out. Plus, I remember how I felt with him. When we were together, it was amazing, if ephemeral.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Anyone who makes me feel that amazing, who deserves to be that close to me, should also be able to find time to call me within the week afterwards.
Both Selves: Before anyone calls me a slut, we didn't have sex, or do anything of that nature.
Hopeless Romantic Self: It was just... chick flick mushy pillow talk. There was footsie, for God's sake.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Innocent footsie. But seriously, just because I feel like that series of moments was perfect doesn't mean he did. I should know. I'm certainly no stranger to acting like things are important to me. Like Devlin said, karma is biting me in the ass. Just in the reverse order that it should. So, I should cut my losses and move on.
Hopeless Romantic Self: Jinah and Dave said I'd never really know unless I gave it a try. I really don't even know all the details behind his actions, or lack thereof. I should at least ask what was going on with that.
Callous, Pragmatic Self: But, the details that I do know are enough. I remember how I felt when he ignored me. I can't imagine what I'd feel if he just said, "that apology was all bullshit, I just didn't want any guilt following me into the new year. I wasn't all that into you." I don't think I could take that, but I'd deserve it if I were fool enough to leave myself vulnerable to that kind of letdown.
Hopeless Romantic Self: I'll never know unless I try. That and, shit. Could I just be shutting him out for that exact reason? Am I just afraid of getting hurt? I mean, if I am, it's justified. But am I forcing myself to keep my distance from anyone that might be able to damage me?
Callous, Pragmatic Self: Of course I am, idiot. What's this whole line of reasoning been about, anyway? Shit. Fear aside, I'd have called him by now, just out of curiousity. If he said I was never all that important to him, I'd tell him to fuck off and go on with my day. At least I'd know.
Hopeless Romantic Self: So, in matters of romance, callousness and pragmatism are really just big, fancy words to make it easier to rationalize fear?
Callous, Pragmatic Self: I should know this already from watching "Donnie Darko." Even though Donnie dismissed it as bullshit, the idea that fear and love are the polar extremes at each end of the emotional spectrum isn't all that ludicrous.
Both Selves: Well, I hope you've enjoyed this. Now back to your regularly scheduled faux sanity.
Maybe I'll dwell on that. Love and fear, when viewed as polar extremes, could influence each other in equal and inverse fashions.
And then, to take a page out of Devlin's book, every interaction I've ever had, and every one I will have, will be at the most basic level, between myself and someone else.
Applied to my current situation in the simplest fashion: Fear can get in the way of love. And no matter how much I talk to myself about what happened, there's still someone out there who hasn't had his say.
I guess I just answered my own question. I do truly thank God or whoever for the gift of introspection, sometimes.
Disclaimer from both Selves: Just because the word "love" was used doesn't mean that I'm actually in love with Nameless Boy. If I had to pick a word, and I had to choose the single one that applied at this exact moment, I'd pick "preoccupied." That is all.
(DB) out.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
i struggle for the words, and then give up
Something about this vacation seems awry.
It hasn't started, nor is it going to. Finances aren't going to permit it to. Which I knew when the Buick started to blow up, though I hoped I'd forgotten about some cache of money somewhere, or that maybe some of my financial deadlines would postpone themselves.
But given the state of affairs at home lately, the idea of having four days off work seems more nightmarish than the thought of never having a day off work again for the next four months. At least at work, everything I do has a sense of purpose. When I come home, all I want is to not need a sense of purpose.
My house is ripe with people intent on shoving purpose right down my fucking throat.
A couple nights ago, a series of poorly thought out comments from my father catalyzed this hatred I have of being here, this feeling of being a fugitive in my own home. Not that I particularly want to have to call this my home, but you know. When you have no money and everything you own starts to break, the empty space in your life once known as your savings account starts to fill with nasty, unpleasant feelings. And monthly maintenance fees that at one time didn't look like a big deal.
I don't know why I do this all the time. When the going gets rough, I detach myself from everyone that I possibly can. With those few people who force themselves into the isolated spaces I make for myself, I lose my patience almost instantly.
Okay, so now a couple of hours have passed since I started typing this entry, and I feel like my mood has shifted. Probably because my mom has gone to bed, and I've had a bit of much-coveted peace and quiet. One gripe, though: It seems Comcast has caught up with my OnDemand bingeing, and froze my box's IP address for the month. It's probably for the best, because before I know it, I'll be signing the deed to my firstborn over to my parents over this month's bill.
Tomorrow, Bec and I will be fabulous out on the town, with no money. Tonight, I will listen to music on my good headphones, and try to go to sleep happy. Cheers.
(DB) out.
It hasn't started, nor is it going to. Finances aren't going to permit it to. Which I knew when the Buick started to blow up, though I hoped I'd forgotten about some cache of money somewhere, or that maybe some of my financial deadlines would postpone themselves.
But given the state of affairs at home lately, the idea of having four days off work seems more nightmarish than the thought of never having a day off work again for the next four months. At least at work, everything I do has a sense of purpose. When I come home, all I want is to not need a sense of purpose.
My house is ripe with people intent on shoving purpose right down my fucking throat.
A couple nights ago, a series of poorly thought out comments from my father catalyzed this hatred I have of being here, this feeling of being a fugitive in my own home. Not that I particularly want to have to call this my home, but you know. When you have no money and everything you own starts to break, the empty space in your life once known as your savings account starts to fill with nasty, unpleasant feelings. And monthly maintenance fees that at one time didn't look like a big deal.
I don't know why I do this all the time. When the going gets rough, I detach myself from everyone that I possibly can. With those few people who force themselves into the isolated spaces I make for myself, I lose my patience almost instantly.
Okay, so now a couple of hours have passed since I started typing this entry, and I feel like my mood has shifted. Probably because my mom has gone to bed, and I've had a bit of much-coveted peace and quiet. One gripe, though: It seems Comcast has caught up with my OnDemand bingeing, and froze my box's IP address for the month. It's probably for the best, because before I know it, I'll be signing the deed to my firstborn over to my parents over this month's bill.
Tomorrow, Bec and I will be fabulous out on the town, with no money. Tonight, I will listen to music on my good headphones, and try to go to sleep happy. Cheers.
(DB) out.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
so, what about this weather?
Come on now. 60 degrees and an anachronistic thunderstorm last night, now hazardously strong, butt-cold wind tonight with about an hour of snowfall. Why is Maryland like this?
Mysteries for the ages.
I really need to start watching who I get close to, or rather, whom I allow to develop attachments to me. Certain fleeting moments can instill false senses of security, or solidarity, or trust. While it's rarely my intention for such moments to occur, at least as abruptly as they have been, I often find myself making that mistake of suspending disbelief (or distrust) and playing the part, only to feel wretched about it later.
Maybe I'm not that much better than those I get scared off by.
Hah. Well, by the time Maryland sorts out its weather patterns, I'll be in total emotional health. Either that or we'll all be twenty feet underwater, thanks to global warming. As I love swimming, I see that as a win/win situation.
In other news, I saw Claire tonight, which was delightful, as always. There were Lean Pockets and naughty gossip. I swear, this weekend has been "Run Into People I Went to High School With" weekend. And in a rare 2006 fluke, "Cheesy Porn or Something Like It" weekend is running concurrently. It's like a leap year, you know, except with more crotchless panties.
I think I'm gonna get a head start on sleep tonight. I think I need it.
(DB) out.
Mysteries for the ages.
I really need to start watching who I get close to, or rather, whom I allow to develop attachments to me. Certain fleeting moments can instill false senses of security, or solidarity, or trust. While it's rarely my intention for such moments to occur, at least as abruptly as they have been, I often find myself making that mistake of suspending disbelief (or distrust) and playing the part, only to feel wretched about it later.
Maybe I'm not that much better than those I get scared off by.
Hah. Well, by the time Maryland sorts out its weather patterns, I'll be in total emotional health. Either that or we'll all be twenty feet underwater, thanks to global warming. As I love swimming, I see that as a win/win situation.
In other news, I saw Claire tonight, which was delightful, as always. There were Lean Pockets and naughty gossip. I swear, this weekend has been "Run Into People I Went to High School With" weekend. And in a rare 2006 fluke, "Cheesy Porn or Something Like It" weekend is running concurrently. It's like a leap year, you know, except with more crotchless panties.
I think I'm gonna get a head start on sleep tonight. I think I need it.
(DB) out.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
this could be the very minute i'm aware i'm alive
I'm on my back porch. I don't need to wear a jacket. I'm surrounded by breeze and raindrops. Today was a good day, tonight was a good night, and I feel at peace.
Tonight, I ran into Brad at Applebee's (after talking to him for an hour while dropping off some of his stuff), bought some wine, and watched a cheesy porn entitled Nasty Milk Maids.
It was on the clearance rack. And I wasn't alone while I watched it. So you can cancel that "you sick fuck" comment right now.
Right now, I feel serene. Maybe because I feel like I can run into Brad and we both don't get upset. Maybe because I reconnected with some old friends I haven't seen (in some cases) in months. Maybe because of the pinot grigio. But regardless, I like how I feel right now.
I've said it before and I'll certainly say it again: Bec is awesome, because she provides me with an ever-changing and ever more satisfying soundtrack for life. Sometimes it's the little things about friends that one appreciates most.
That and, who would've known six years ago, between myself, Shelly, and Jinah, that we'd end up in a basement, critiquing porn stars? We all knew we were raunchy, but perhaps not to that degree.
From the sound of Flowmasters outside, I can deduce that my brother's home. Maybe the DVD sitting on the counter will amuse him.
Hah, what if I walk inside and it's not sitting there anymore? Now that would be something.
Music: "Chocolate," by Snow Patrol. Check them out. I'm going to bask a little more, and then go to bed.
(DB) out.
Tonight, I ran into Brad at Applebee's (after talking to him for an hour while dropping off some of his stuff), bought some wine, and watched a cheesy porn entitled Nasty Milk Maids.
It was on the clearance rack. And I wasn't alone while I watched it. So you can cancel that "you sick fuck" comment right now.
Right now, I feel serene. Maybe because I feel like I can run into Brad and we both don't get upset. Maybe because I reconnected with some old friends I haven't seen (in some cases) in months. Maybe because of the pinot grigio. But regardless, I like how I feel right now.
I've said it before and I'll certainly say it again: Bec is awesome, because she provides me with an ever-changing and ever more satisfying soundtrack for life. Sometimes it's the little things about friends that one appreciates most.
That and, who would've known six years ago, between myself, Shelly, and Jinah, that we'd end up in a basement, critiquing porn stars? We all knew we were raunchy, but perhaps not to that degree.
From the sound of Flowmasters outside, I can deduce that my brother's home. Maybe the DVD sitting on the counter will amuse him.
Hah, what if I walk inside and it's not sitting there anymore? Now that would be something.
Music: "Chocolate," by Snow Patrol. Check them out. I'm going to bask a little more, and then go to bed.
(DB) out.
Friday, January 13, 2006
why i'm addicted to the internet
because living in the real world is more expensive.
Although on a more profound note, I think it's probably because the walls and boundaries that exist in the real world don't exist online. I could be more or less sitting in my underwear, surrounded by KFC boxes and flies, balancing my time between typing and trying to decide where that last piece of chicken ended up.
Well, you know, I could be doing that. I'm wearing my normal clothes and the Dickies jacket I'm often too lazy to take off. Not that anyone cares.
When we spend our entire days worrying about how we look, what we smell like, what sort of presence we exude, and what our body language is saying about us, it can be relaxing to be gloriously two-dimensional. It's easier to see oneself from all angles on a screen, and the comfort in that comes from seeing exactly what everyone else sees.
I don't know if I just ... crap, I just realized how much I need to go to bed ... anyway, I don't know if I just said something truly insightful, or used big words to justify a lack of aptitude for dealing with the world, outside of the store and the diner.
I need bed.
(DB) out.
Although on a more profound note, I think it's probably because the walls and boundaries that exist in the real world don't exist online. I could be more or less sitting in my underwear, surrounded by KFC boxes and flies, balancing my time between typing and trying to decide where that last piece of chicken ended up.
Well, you know, I could be doing that. I'm wearing my normal clothes and the Dickies jacket I'm often too lazy to take off. Not that anyone cares.
When we spend our entire days worrying about how we look, what we smell like, what sort of presence we exude, and what our body language is saying about us, it can be relaxing to be gloriously two-dimensional. It's easier to see oneself from all angles on a screen, and the comfort in that comes from seeing exactly what everyone else sees.
I don't know if I just ... crap, I just realized how much I need to go to bed ... anyway, I don't know if I just said something truly insightful, or used big words to justify a lack of aptitude for dealing with the world, outside of the store and the diner.
I need bed.
(DB) out.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
i <3 star trek.
All ten Star Trek movies are available OnDemand. I'm surprised I've left the house, period.
Well, not really. Sometimes it gets hardcore annoying here, and I just have to get out.
Edo Japan is gone from the food court. I'm condemned to Panda Express. So, more money, more digestive distress, for less food. I want to write a letter to mall management, for the disruption it has caused my life. But that'd burn precious calories that I need to conserve, because there's kinda no food anywhere in my life right now.
I'm cool because I can't think of things to finish sentences that begin with "I'm cool because."
But at least I try.
I really don't know where I wanted to go with this entry. thom mentioned somehing yesterday about having commented on my blog entries, and I thought, shit. I don't think I've checked it since last I wrote. I forgot how easy Safari RSS makes keeping up on peoples' blogs. I guess I also am used to most of my readers being dirty, filthy Windows users.
I heart Something Corporate, and I heart Bec for giving me the album. I do not heart, however, my desk chair, which has claimed many of the originals of the albums I've amassed on my hard drive.
I also heart overwhelming numbers of prepositional phrases.
me-
if i consciously note how many prepositional phrases i use in a sentence, and then blog that mental note, is it time for bed?
bec-
yes.
absolutely
me-
awesome.
talk to you later
bec-
'night
(DB) out.
Well, not really. Sometimes it gets hardcore annoying here, and I just have to get out.
Edo Japan is gone from the food court. I'm condemned to Panda Express. So, more money, more digestive distress, for less food. I want to write a letter to mall management, for the disruption it has caused my life. But that'd burn precious calories that I need to conserve, because there's kinda no food anywhere in my life right now.
I'm cool because I can't think of things to finish sentences that begin with "I'm cool because."
But at least I try.
I really don't know where I wanted to go with this entry. thom mentioned somehing yesterday about having commented on my blog entries, and I thought, shit. I don't think I've checked it since last I wrote. I forgot how easy Safari RSS makes keeping up on peoples' blogs. I guess I also am used to most of my readers being dirty, filthy Windows users.
I heart Something Corporate, and I heart Bec for giving me the album. I do not heart, however, my desk chair, which has claimed many of the originals of the albums I've amassed on my hard drive.
I also heart overwhelming numbers of prepositional phrases.
me-
if i consciously note how many prepositional phrases i use in a sentence, and then blog that mental note, is it time for bed?
bec-
yes.
absolutely
me-
awesome.
talk to you later
bec-
'night
(DB) out.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
"it's hardly what I'd be doing if you gave me a choice"
This year, I will:
attempt to find an apartment
start saving some damn money
lose at least ten pounds, for the love of god.
stop being such an insomniac.
Secret: I've been trying to put together this post for the past few days. I just haven't got around to finishing it.
2005, wow... its passing feels just like 2004's, emotionally anyway, almost like the entire year never happened. I guess that's one of the safe and good things about ringing in the new year with the same people, it adds a sense of longevity to your relationship. Nostalgia blooms and ill feelings seem to disappear. I mean, for God's sake, I've been friends with Jacque for ten years. Percentage-wise, that's 50% of my life. And each yeah, it becomes a smaller percentage, but a longer time. (sorry about the redundancy there.)
Plus, who wants to waste their last and first memories of a year to end or start with a group of people that sucks, or means nothing? I'm a firm believer in keeping that annual moment mellow and comfortable, not drunk, in tight clothes, surrounded by strangers.
I guess this is because I've never gone through with my trips to TImes Square that I try to plan, year after year.
Things that have changed: A year ago, I was fresh out of Penney's. I was also fresh out of a failed semester at school. I'd also just come all the way out of the closet, only a matter of months prior. I felt like, "okay, I'm going to work full time, and I'm going to deal with it, and I'm going to be young and liberated and have tons of disposable income." And to a degree, that held true. Between bills, taxes, and tickets, I don't think I've ever had that much disposable income. I met Brad and had a long (for me) and meaningful relationship. I quit a miserable job, scrounged by for months, then landed my dream job.
Last year, I walked more paths than I think I ever have before, at least consecutively. 9-to-5, vagrant, part-time retail, college, slacker, nobody, somebody, loved, hated, desired, ignored, practically married, alone, bitterly unsatisfied, and smugly accomplished. And to tie in with something I think I mentioned in a previous post, I'm responsible for all of it. I'm the one behind the wheel.
I guess that's why it's all been hard to take lately. I could be anything I want to be. It's just a matter of how well I like where I land myself.
I've also found home is where you make it.
Tonight, I sat at the diner with Devlin and Adam, and we waxed poetic about all sorts of things. Of the hundred million topics we broached, one stuck with me. If you take all the things I demonstrate an inherent talent for, and then make a list of the things that I know inside and out, they're dramatically imbalanced. I'm half-assedly experienced in everything I can do. Music, writing, photography, cars, philosophy, politics, thinking, feeling. Some people have lives that would read like an encyclopedia entry. Revolving mostly around one topic and one theme, but very detailed and thorough. I feel like the "Quick Reference" guide in the back. I could talk intelligently about nearly anything, but often, only superficially.
I want to feel better than that. I want to feel like the sum of my parts would amount to something greater than they are. I think I could get to that by trying to ditch my ever-lasting fear of confrontation, and filling its place with a little persistence.
I just climbed in bed, because it's getting late, and I'm getting tired. And I had no concept of how comfortable I'd get. I feel like I had a good day, like I ran my brain at its full capacity for a significant enough amount of time. So I think I'm going to get some sleep. Peace out, yall.
(DB) out.
attempt to find an apartment
start saving some damn money
lose at least ten pounds, for the love of god.
stop being such an insomniac.
Secret: I've been trying to put together this post for the past few days. I just haven't got around to finishing it.
2005, wow... its passing feels just like 2004's, emotionally anyway, almost like the entire year never happened. I guess that's one of the safe and good things about ringing in the new year with the same people, it adds a sense of longevity to your relationship. Nostalgia blooms and ill feelings seem to disappear. I mean, for God's sake, I've been friends with Jacque for ten years. Percentage-wise, that's 50% of my life. And each yeah, it becomes a smaller percentage, but a longer time. (sorry about the redundancy there.)
Plus, who wants to waste their last and first memories of a year to end or start with a group of people that sucks, or means nothing? I'm a firm believer in keeping that annual moment mellow and comfortable, not drunk, in tight clothes, surrounded by strangers.
I guess this is because I've never gone through with my trips to TImes Square that I try to plan, year after year.
Things that have changed: A year ago, I was fresh out of Penney's. I was also fresh out of a failed semester at school. I'd also just come all the way out of the closet, only a matter of months prior. I felt like, "okay, I'm going to work full time, and I'm going to deal with it, and I'm going to be young and liberated and have tons of disposable income." And to a degree, that held true. Between bills, taxes, and tickets, I don't think I've ever had that much disposable income. I met Brad and had a long (for me) and meaningful relationship. I quit a miserable job, scrounged by for months, then landed my dream job.
Last year, I walked more paths than I think I ever have before, at least consecutively. 9-to-5, vagrant, part-time retail, college, slacker, nobody, somebody, loved, hated, desired, ignored, practically married, alone, bitterly unsatisfied, and smugly accomplished. And to tie in with something I think I mentioned in a previous post, I'm responsible for all of it. I'm the one behind the wheel.
I guess that's why it's all been hard to take lately. I could be anything I want to be. It's just a matter of how well I like where I land myself.
I've also found home is where you make it.
Tonight, I sat at the diner with Devlin and Adam, and we waxed poetic about all sorts of things. Of the hundred million topics we broached, one stuck with me. If you take all the things I demonstrate an inherent talent for, and then make a list of the things that I know inside and out, they're dramatically imbalanced. I'm half-assedly experienced in everything I can do. Music, writing, photography, cars, philosophy, politics, thinking, feeling. Some people have lives that would read like an encyclopedia entry. Revolving mostly around one topic and one theme, but very detailed and thorough. I feel like the "Quick Reference" guide in the back. I could talk intelligently about nearly anything, but often, only superficially.
I want to feel better than that. I want to feel like the sum of my parts would amount to something greater than they are. I think I could get to that by trying to ditch my ever-lasting fear of confrontation, and filling its place with a little persistence.
I just climbed in bed, because it's getting late, and I'm getting tired. And I had no concept of how comfortable I'd get. I feel like I had a good day, like I ran my brain at its full capacity for a significant enough amount of time. So I think I'm going to get some sleep. Peace out, yall.
(DB) out.
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