I used to think that I would become someone when I grew up. Not a president, ruler, millionaire or anything like that (although those thoughts have crossed my mind) - but a person. Someone. Anyone. I thought I would always grow and develop and become. I didn't think that people could stagger, degrade, revert or whatever.

Growth. I always thought that meant growing bigger and taller. Moving and going places. Becoming something, someone, anything. I thought people feared change, the different and unknown. I never imagined the familiar, the static and the echoes could be so terrifying. And I guess they're not. Not at all.

It's actually a little sad. A little hollow. A little empty. A little familiar.

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I write these things because I want to write something, but I'm actually content. I'm not sad or miserable and nothing is really wrong. It's Thanksgiving break. That seems about right.

This Blog in Particular

Throughout the years of writing on this blog (mainly the few months of the pass four five years I dedicated to "expressing" myself), I tried to write personal stories, relevant news, tutorials, artsy things, gay slashing, and personal messages to Deb. At one point I even posted pictures of hot politicians like John McCain, before the ugly years. I like some of the random "I bow to thee, Xabi Alonso" stuff I posted and I hate a lot of whiny things I posted. In the end I'm really glad I documented something, anything at all. I'm glad that one day, even now, I can just go back and trace some fragments of my old, stupid, brilliant, young and annoying self. God knows I have tons of journals but most of the pages are blank or filled will those go three miles and take a right turn type of notes.

I honestly think I still keep up with this blog because I think that you are still reading from time to time. It is like I have some sort of connection to someone out there. I mean, I have real, physical connections and I do talk to people, but I don't write to people. I don't type random thoughts that I think mean something and make people read them. You're like a journal with a mind of its own. Sometimes you respond a little. That's good enough for me.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle

I started the book last night and then got sleepy. I had a nightmare and finished the book this morning. I really like it. I didn't realize it was a horror or mystery or anything of that sort while reading it. Now think I it horrifies me and I love it.

Thanks for the recommendation Deb! I think I will read more Shirley Jackson in the future.

Midyear First Post

My life has been pretty good. Uneventful, so good.

I haven't been happy with myself lately, but I am trying to change that. When I was young, cynicism was fresh and fun. Now that I am a little older, it's just bitter. I am trying to become a more positive person. I think if I like other people more, I can like myself more.

I haven't been writing or thinking much. I scatter my writings around various mediums. It's all very inconsistent. My goal is write at least once or twice a month on this blog. Let you know that I'm alive.

On a more positive note (that's the goal!) - I have new obsessions to kill time. Most notably, Doctor Who! Doctor Who? Doctor Who! Share my passion and remain my friend.