As nice as it is to be back, I can't help missing the sunny 80º weather and palm trees. Not missed: living out of a backpack and waiting an hour for everything. Solution: move to California and become rich and famous.

Anaheim bound!

Now playing:
The Darkness, I Believe In A Thing Called Love


So I really doubt anyone is reading this now, but that's ok. It still makes me feel better.

I'm doing much better with everything: diet, exercise (though maybe the "much" isn't deserved there), and even getting things done. However, it seems that things still manage to sneak up on me when I let my guard down. The problem, then, is to figure out how not to let my guard down...

And dammit, I'm getting antsy again, and I haven't even had syrup (a veiled movie reference, is it meow?). I'm starting to imagine interests and think too much on what they could become. I need to either chill or do something. Somehow I can't see myself "chilling," but at the same time I don't think this is the most opportune moment for a relationship. Then again, it's never an opportune time to get sick, but we deal anyway. Not to compare the effects and the sensation of the two, but I do equate the helplessness of the situation - you feel yourself falling into it, but you can't do anything about it even if you try. What's more, they sneak up on you. Looks like it's back to the old drawing board...

"He went like one that hath been stunned
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn."
- Coleridge, Rime of the Ancient Mariner

I find that I sigh a lot these days.

"You'll say that we've got nothing in common
No common ground to start from
And we're falling apart"
- Breakfast at Tiffany's

Not-exact Quote of the moment:
"This is for a kid who thinks he hasn't seen anything good today." -Ferris Bueller

I'm in a confused mood right now. I feel like I'm somewhere between the end of the beginning and whatever comes next. I don't have time for life. I don't have time for the life I used to live, and I'm not ready to make time for the life I need to live. I feel like an ant under a glass, like I'm increasingly constricted and the only way to escape is to draw the walls in even closer. There is a feeling that I can't escape, only postpone when I stay busy or absorb myself in something brainless, that it never gets any better than it is now. Little enough encouragement that may be, but despite it I feel that I ought to make more of my life now rather than fret about the future. But I can't. The future hunts me like a fugitive, as a force of nature that never relents, only waits for the next opportunity to strike. The past haunts me when I let it, and every time I try to take a lesson from the past to guide my future, I only sink into those transgressions further, or make greater mistakes. I want more than anything to love and to be loved in return, and I let exactly that slip through my fingers. I let the best parts of everything slip through my fingers, leaving a skeletal existence, dancing disjointed from sadness to sadness. Where is the marrow of life? I am merely on the journey from innocence to experience, and already I wish to reclaim all that has been lost, but I am pushed forward and the only way to go smoothly is to want it, to revel in it. I have to want to let go of more things that I cherish now and will miss in the future. Life requires forward movement, and in it a transition from happiness to sadness. Say if you will that I am missing the positive in all this, but when the only moments in a day that I have to think about my life leave me "a wiser and a sadder man," I find it hard to be positive. Reading Blake, Wordsworth, and Coleridge may not be helping, but not reading can't hide me from the truth: life moves on, regardless of whether I'm with it. It's just days like these that make me wish I could just let it go on a while without me. It's days like this I'd rather let somebody else be the hero.


"There goes my hero
Watch him as he goes
There goes my hero
He's ordinary"
- Foo Fighters