"Though I will never fade,
Or get lost in this daze,
Though I will disappear
Into the street parade

Though I will disappear
To join the street parade
Disappear and fade
Into the street parade"

i'm staying at st. john's, as it turns out. blah blah blah. i'll explain it in another medium to anyone who cares.

this journal now only exists as an archive of a whole lot of growing up i had to do, and won't be updated anymore.

i've decided to leave st. john's at the end of this year ( Read more... )

and i never thought i'd say it, but i'm very fucking ready for winter to be over. it's been a bit too much of a good thing.

heh.

this is the sound of me being happy and not giving a fuck. not even one.

and finally being happy and only being corrosively negative when there's a fucking reason.

yeahhhhhh.

the (terrible/hilarious/fun) thing about working out too much is that your body starts to confuse pain and pleasure. and the pain gets kind of addictive.

the idea of humility is a threat, but the reality of it is such a relief.

transition's such a meaningless word. change is such a nondescription, such an unreality.

they're such unsatisfying words, they say so little. like trying to extrapolate war news from the weather report.

"i can't tell you where we're going, i guess there's just no way of knowing"

i don't feel like communicating in this medium anymore. making the journal private has proven to me how increasingly irrelevant it is.

i'm going for a walk.

denver people, i'll see ya'll soon.

timeconsumption over and out.

in addition to demanding giant-robot entertainment, my inner ten-year-old wishes i hadn't parted with the first and third rancid albums. although it's funny that mick now has my copy of the third.