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The Context Of The First Thought.

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My Ultimate fear is the fear of not doing myself. 

I spend All of a thing thinking about what i am thinking. 

What if what im thinking isnt the right thing?

If I'm wrong, it would mess things up.

I need to breathe, to remember.

whatever im thinking about is the right thing.

It may seem like the difficult thing to do.

It may even be hard to think about specifically.

Blink-182

"Whats My Age Again?" 

Enema Of The State 1999

They come and go. You'd think that the world would have learned that by now. The more that everyone becomes obsessed, the more that everyone gets burned out. 

*****

When I open up my dresser and look at my shirts, I see a history. Some shirts are new, some are old, some are really old. If they're all folded nicely, They all look appealing, or at least a little bit stylish. When the folds become a jumble, everything changes. All of my old favorites suddenly look terrifying. Black? More like washed out greyish. And then I feel like I need new clothes, and then I realize I did all along. 

This post feels very non sequitir, but if I don't start doing my homework soon, I never will.

*****

Why do things get old? Is it because they stop feeling new?

  When you're alive, it's fairly important to live your life. I'm blown away by how often people, including myself from time to time, fail to do so. When I live for me, all of sudden, I start enjoying myself. Decisions are made for myself. Smiling happens. Happy happens. It's incredible. Perhaps most intriguing is the change in the parts of life that seemed to be bringing me down when I neglected myself. When I act with my heart, nearly everything that once seemed a nuisance or a struggle now seems an opportunity for growth, for happiness, for a lesson learned.

I've begun to practice yoga once a day, even if I can only squeeze in 10 minutes. The changes i felt in my body came within the first week, and they were incredible. I sleep sounder, I'm more energetic, and I can actually touch my toes without grunting. Yoga makes me happy.

I've listened to more music these few weeks than what was normal a few weeks ago. Variety in genre and date of release has kept me guessing on what i will hear, and it has only made it more interesting. Music makes me happy.

I've been using my Nikon D70s to take pictures of things I find interesting, and i absolutely love how dweeby I look with a camera around my neck as I climb random shit to capture the perfect angle. Photography makes me happy.

At least once a week, I've been getting lunch with a friend that I have met in a unique, 'adult' circumstance. It keeps me learning new and interesting perspectives that would be impossible to attain on my own or from my same-age peers. I've been applying what I've learned to my entire life, however, and hopefully my peers will learn from me. This week, the most important thing I realized was how far friendliness to strangers will get you. You never know who you will meet. I met 4 people from Italy.  Happiness abound.

Every night, before falling asleep, I read. The standard amount is a chapter; If I'm awake enough, I'll go further, but if all I can do is a page or two, I will go reread something I found interesting. It helps me sleep better, it expands my mind, and it makes me happy.

I keep a journal of what I do, eat, drink, and think. Not only does it keep my head from exploding, It reminds me that I'm not insane, and I haven't been for a while. I sketch, I write, I explore everything there is to explore, and I use a pencil to do so. I'm happy in my expansion and my reflection.

I spend time with people I love, and I care not what others think of what we do. Friendship is the most beautiful thing in the world, and, if nurtured, it can only lead to love. Friendship and love make me happy.

I'm happy, and I plan on keeping this up.

D

Split-EPs are great. This is sorta like that, except it's split by five bands instead of two. Here's to the punk roots we all sometimes pretend we don't have. Ten tracks including music by At The Drive-In, Operation Ivy, andFugazi. (For those who don't know, Tim Armstrong, before he became Rancid, was Op Ivy.)

"My Blue Heaven"

Taking Back Sunday

Louder Now 2006

I lost my favorite mug today.

I was in the library doing homework, shopping for textbooks online, etc. when suddenly I noticed that it was 12:25.  I had class at 12:30. I jumped up, packed up, and booked it to class (no pun intended). After I had settled into my seat in class, just two minutes late, I suddenly had a craving for warm caffeine. I reached under my seat, where my coffee should have been. I felt around, I reached, I groped. Nothing.

The world, minus mug.

A miniature panic attack followed, where I frantically looked inside my backpack and around the nearby floorspace. Of course, it wasn't there. I thought back and realized that i had bene playing air-drums on my walk to class, something that is, quite frankly, impossible to do while holding a full mug of hot coffee (even if said mug has a lid). My thoughts traveled back to the last time I thought of the mug - I had been planning on refilling my coffee after I left the library on my way to class, but I had simply lost track of time and forgotten.

As soon as I got out of class, I hurried to the library, right back to the couch I had been sitting on. No mug. A feeling of emptiness. I checked the library lost and found. No Mug. A feeling of loss. I checked all nearby countertops and corners. No mug. A feeling of desperation. I checked all the nearby trashcans. No mug.

No Mug.

How could I have been so careless? I loved that damn mug. I have used it almost every day for the past year and a half. If I needed to-go, was my 'go to'. It fit in my hand. It made me smile. It saved me ten cents at Starbucks so, so, so many times. I've sketched that mug from memory on multiple occasions, even though my sketching was/is relative crap. Shit sucks. Really hard. 

D

"Companions"

The Dodos

No Color, 2011

when a certain plant + munchies + a lack of real food = awesome. meet the toasted watermelon gummy sandwich. (not recommended for sober)

A wise sticker at a bar in Paris once told me "Life sucks....And then you die."

At first right after I read this I laughed and, although I thought it was funny, I didn't think twice about it until about 5 minutes ago. I wanted to put a quote up and, strangely enough, this is the first thing that came to my mind. It is so simple, and I think that there is an implication in this statement that transforms this from a pessimistic prediction into a deeper reflection on life.

The matter-of-fact, somber, and certain tone of these words remind me that this prediction, this simple statement, describes a good amount of people in this world. People who rush through their daily lives as if every motion is just a way to get to the next are destined to this fate. "Life" is a concept. Having a life that sucks, or is boring, or is hard, or is great is all arbitrary. What matters is how you live these lives. You never know what the next day/month/year will bring, the only thing you can be sure of is what you are doing right now. Trying to make sure that your life doesn't suck is to try and control something uncontrollable. The only option we have to to take what we're given in life and enjoy it. Make the best of every situation and then you life can't possibly suck.

High Fidelity grabbed my entire mind and didn't let go for 3 solid days. 

Hornby spins a tale about a man not unlike many, that just can't seem to make sense of women, and just can't seem to get his record collection out of his head. I found this book to be relatable in that perfect 'that's-not-me-but-I-could-be-there' type of way. It was incredibly entertaining, and the sense of humor was backed by a very strong depth of character that didn't stop building till the last sentence. 

I was so unable to put High Fidelity down that I found myself reading while standing in line at the DMV, and, while waiting for the light to turn green.