It's never as easy as you want it to be.
There's no such thing as a clean break, a fresh start. I thought I could extricate myself without doing any more damage, but I was wrong.
I gave up one dream for another and lost that one, too.
To the author of the anonymous comment that I accidentally despammed:
Sorry, dude. By the time I saw it, I had already hit the button.
And who are you anyway? Are you all one person or is there a whole segment of society leaving nuggets of wisdom on websites, but no names? Do I know you? Are you too bashful to want me to know that you read my site? One word comes to mind, and I have a difficult time dismissing it. It starts with "ch" and ends with "icken." So if anyone would like to offer a plausible reason why anonymous commentators are not feathery barnyard animals, I am eager to hear it.
In the meantime, leave a name! It doesn't even have to be your real name; any name will do.
Softly now,
You owe it to the world
And everyone knows that you're my favorite [boy]
But there's some things in life that are not meant to be
I'm not meant for you and you're not meant for me
Here's to our problems
And here's to our fights
Here's to our achings
And here's to you having a good life
From me
Good life
Softer now,
You owe it to yourself
And don't think that you will be left on the shelf
Cause there's someone for you and there's someone for me
Like me you'll meet them eventually
Here's to [my] lover
And here's to [your] wife
Here's to your children and here's to you having a good life
From me
Good life
Love is blind. Breakups are laser vision correction.
Ok, I've gotta start this thing up again. Two years ago, I had plenty of material to write about and nobody to read it. Now I have regular readers and nothing to write. I keep waiting for inspiration, but it's getting to the point where I think I'm gonna hafta make my own.
Hmmm... What inspires me?
My latest Netflix rental. American Splendor. That was a cool movie. I was completely fascinated, mostly because the story had been going on under my nose for 20-odd years and I had no idea.
Camping. Communing with nature. And screaming babies. And barking dogs. And nazi park rangers.
School? No. In fact, I find school definitively uninspiring. Summer classes, being condensed, last approximately 3 hours each. My attention span for articulation disorders and cleft palate, respectively, is about 1 hour each. That leaves two hours, 3 times a week, of me wanting to poke my eyes out.
The boy. Yes, he is a significant source of my inspiration these days, but not the kind of inspiration that makes me want to run home and fire up the laptop. Rather, it's the kind that makes me want to plan the rest of our lives together and then hurry up and start living it.