Now playing: Nick Drake – Way to Blue
via FoxyTunes Le Sigh. Livejournal is SO, like, 3 years ago…Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m starting a new blog. Wait, why am I starting a new blog? …’Cos Franklin did it first and everyone knows I just do whatever the Franklin does. Maybe there’s a vague hope that it will inspire me to get back to blogging away, but the fact is I just don’t have all that mindless, empty time sitting in front of a screen at that horrific little hellhole JHS down south. Life here slips away almost unnoticed it’s so smooth. Like a river current, it sweeps me up with hardly a sound and carries me on effortlessly…why fight it? I have rhythms. I’m left to my own devices. I play my guitar and go running and play silly computer games and sleep well. I get drunk sometimes and constantly fail at quitting cigarettes…and who’s to care? For some reason, going back to the LJ just feels…anachronistic, or something. It feels finished, or at least, for some other purpose than I need at the moment. I’m almost unable to post on it lately. The most I manage is a link or video every few weeks. The real answer is that I’m just generally lazy, but also it’s very connected with a skin that I’m just now finally shedding. Praise Jesus. It’s taken a helluva long time, but finally.
Dad says I should make a book out of my JET journaling…it’s actually a fairly enticing idea. Never have I found such a bitch-worthy subject as the time in Guadallama. There are days when I think I should set sights on doing something with writing…then it unravels in my hands as I while away hours doing seemingly nothing in front of a screen. I haven’t written a story since Portland. I read those stories sometimes though, and think “Hey, yeah. That’s not so bad. I like it in fact…if it were a magazine, I wouldn’t put it down just yet.” Dad strokes my ample ego a bit and tells me my j-blog had “fans” back home, random strangers who were more up with my haps than he was. I like this idea…obviously. But lookie now, I got my life all straightened out n all and I’m plum out of things to complain about it…ain’t it always be like that.
“I got the style but not the grace
I got the clothes but not the face
I got the bread but not the butter
I got the winda but not the shutter