Huh.

The words I wrote are a broken chain holding me from the criminally insane but it's gone and there's no stopping - all my balloons are popping. ~ Children 18:3 "All My Balloons"

Who would have figured I'd be awake at 12:36AM and want to blog? I didn't think I would be, for sure. I suppose everyone does something they didn't expect once in a while. Regarding the the lyrics that began this post, I suddenly had a revelation at the end of Latin class waiting to go home when the aforementioned song came on my iPod. The revelation was this. Writing keeps me from being insane. I haven't really written much recently but the urge is still there. It lurks under the surface, waiting to be freed. I may be crazy....I'm not sure.

Moving on, I am quite excited to have the opportunity to visit the island of Tortuga this summer. First, it will be a nice albeit short vacation from life. Second, it will be leaving America! Woo! Third, it may give me some sort of incentive to write, or record my experiences as I go along. It should be great fun if I go.

Uh....I suppose that is all I have to say.

Writing, Blags, and the Passage of Time

It seems as if I have been quite lax in reguards to my contributions to...well... this blog and well...life! Or at least this day would lead me to think so if I didn't know better. Maybe it is good to have a few pointless nonproductive days where you just sit around and do pointless mindnumbing yet somewhat defining tasks. That doesn't negate the feeling it brings though.

So you may be wondering about the annoyingly formal diction that I am currently typing in. I am too. There we go.

Anyway, to sum it all up, today was kind of useless but kind of not and I don't like that feeling no matter how many times this sort of thing happens. Maybe it's the culture we live in where we constantly have to be doing something "productive". Maybe it is all just a waste of time, though I wouldn't go that far.

It seems like I've gotten used to having weekends filled with moments that define my life. Those times that I spend with friends that are undeniably precious and, in short, fun; moments where I'm actually out doing something, experiencing the world with other people by my side. It also seems like every day in which I do not have a moment like that or that I don't spend time with my extended family is a day wasted no matter how "productive" I am being.

There is no doubt in my mind that I am lucky to have times like these and to know that more will come in the future, but I can't help but feel as if they are always slipping away or cheapened by the constant heap of deadlines and drudgery of routine. Things are passing so uniformly and so quickly that it seems like the only days I truly live are the days in which I am free for a short time: the time I spend with all of you.

ah...sheeeet

well, i'm not exactly happy these days. i'm paranoid. i'm nervous. i bought a damn lighter for fuck's sake just so i can flick it. Damn, i suck.