One of Those, One of These

So i feel like writing, but you see, i have absolutely nothing and at the same time absolutely everything to say here.

Have your eyes ever started to burn because of the computer screen? Mine have, mine are. Turn down the brightness, it usually helps. 50% should due.

The Only Moment We Were Alone - Explosions In the Sky

So i have listened to this on a loop for the past hour, which seems like forever. And i want to write lyrics, but we come back to the " i have nothing, yet everything to say"

I cant exactly say its writers block, because you see, i am still writing. I just haven't really say a whole lot in the past 111 words i have typed.

In that case, i guess i should get going with this writing business. Cut to the chase, as some would say. Let me tell you a story then, since this song is running through my head, and someone mentioned pasta, which got me thinking even more. Old pasta actually. Its amazing. No, not "it". "I", yes I am amazing. Sometimes i don't understand the things i do.

When i was in college, there was nothing around to eat other than pasta (which was fine, im a big fan) I cooked the pasta, but way to much of it, so i just ate what i could and set the rest aside on my desk, pondering weather or not i could muster up the strength to put it in the fridge where usually food belongs after your done picking through it.

Well i never got around to doing it, and that pasta sat for two whole days. Two days on a dusty desk, in a messy room, that seemed to always smell like dirty socks (i don't know why, i DID do my laundry... from time to time)

Oh it had just crossed my mind as of now.
I hope you are listening to that song that i had posted. It IS 10 minutes long, so im sure once you are finished reading this it should be somewhere in the middle.

Anyways back to the pasta. I don't believe in wasting things, and at 2am, old pasta thats been sitting on a desk for a few days does look quite appealing, so i did what a basic lower class teenage boy would have done! (not saying i am one, just that i may act like one at points)

Yes, i did. I took the pasta and put it in the microwave, zapped it, and ate the entire bowl. (at least what was left of it.) And since i knew it was something disgusting to do, i enjoyed it that much more. The pasta did taste fantastic, and it wasn't moldy, so i was safe.

Im sure a few years from now i will be told by my doctor that i have some rare disease that only comes by when you eat 2 day old pasta that's been sitting out in a dirty sock smelling room, and you can only contract the disease if you zap the pasta in the microwave for 53 seconds on high.

Im fucked.

I thought this needed to be captured.

Lets Create a Time Machine

I wish we could just be happy again, like before. When i used to sit at your bed and you'd play me a new song you learned, or sit in the car and watch the moon turn red during the eclipse. But things change, people grow, and life gets hard. The most important thing is to get through it, and do the best you can.

Sometimes i wonder why things happen the way they do. I am sitting here from my computer desk at home, in Welland, and in three days ill be sitting on my bed, with my new sheets and new laptop, writing a note or doing a blogTV show, from Oakville.

Today, i can tell you i have never been more excited and sad to be leaving home all at the same time. And you might be thinking "what?!, your last blog said you hated life" or whatever i wrote about that day... Well i never go back and read what i have written. Someone once told me when they record something or make a video, once they are happy with it they post it and never watch it again.

I do that with the notes i write.

I was watching Tyra Banks the other day on TV. A therapist was helping young people with their odd habits and addictions. One girl came on the show with her husband. She has one child and shes 19 years old. She missed her prom, graduation, and most of her last months of school for this baby she now has. Her problem was, she couldn't stop crying.

I sat back and watched this, watched the therapist talk about it... and something he said just made so much sense to me that it hasn't left.

"A setback is a setup for a comeback"

It just makes sense right now.
I dont know.


I am me.
Is it possible?
Can it be done?
To capture Joy
Loves smile begun
Tender hands
Safe and secure
Memories of home
Love is here, and more...
- unknown

Leave Me Be.

Well it’s late, im grumpy, and I feel like writing a lot of pointless crap that later ill probably look back at and realize none of it was really true.

Basically, I feel like shit right now, I look like shit, and im wearing pj's that look like shit. Shit shit shit. Anyways, I don’t really know how to say it or what to say but im just in the worse "shit" mood ever. I feel like just going for a run, but since it IS 11:23PM that's kind of out of the question. Id most likely be running away from serial killers and rapists. Hmm, serial killers and rapists. Why is it that everyone is so stereotypical? I mean, why does everyone think serial killers and rapists live in the darkness? Maybe they do... Maybe there were a bunch of them that created a pact that they were going to "strike" at night and only at night. Or maybe it’s as simple as the fact that it’s easier to be sneaky at night, its dark, and just downright spooky sometimes.

Anywhoo that was completely off topic. Tomorrow I am going to see rooms to rent in Oakville. I’m very, ugh, just uptight and frustrated. Even right now.

I seem to be very confused and things just get complicated. I can’t even sit and write a goddamn post without tearing up because I feel so fucking bad for myself lately. And its not that I don’t want to talk about it with people. It’s the fact that I don’t want people to know I feel this way, or that sometimes imp upset when I don’t seem upset or whatever.

I guess tonight is just one of those nights I just feel like giving up. Tomorrow-ill wake up thinking "Great! Apartments" and go along with my day but for now, well I can sulk and cry and take this time to write, and just get whatever it is that’s bugging me (and has been for the last couple weeks or so) OUT!

Unfortunately, I don’t and can’t really write that feeling... It’s like depression but not as severe. Its easy to hide it seems, but at the same time eats away at me until I give in day after day. Oh boy. I guess it’s just the mood the "shit feeling" welling up inside me, maybe the grumpiness setting in. I want to sleep, I want to cry, and I want to wake up feeling like it doesn’t matter anymore.

Well it IS late, I AM grumpy, and I just wrote a lot of pointless crap that later I will look back at and realize none of it was really true.