I save every note, email, picture, and message.


Is it masochistic to do this? Ive had many situations where I gave love to people, and received some back. These situations haven't ended well, but I still keep the memories. I also keep physical representations of the memories. I know its weird, but more than two-thirds of the serious relationships I have been in have involved writing notes or letters and passing them back and forth. When I get dumped, I have the ones they wrote to me, and they have the ones I wrote to them. Its intriguing, if neither one of us throws away the letters/notes, its like having the other in the room with you, saying "we were happy before". Am I being "emo"? I know I'm not special for dealing with these issues, everyone does. I am also not looking for sympathy or anything. Basically, I just want to relate whats on my mind without coming off as a whiny punk ass bitch.

...

That said, I miss you.
you know who you are.

Music
Is
Everything
And
Nothing

Stop me if im being pretentious. Oh, you cant stop me? Too bad, I guess. When I hear a band I like, I get obsessive. I listen to EVERY song, including b-sides, rarities, and covers. Then I listen to live versions of as many songs as I can. I even read each interview the band gave. I do all this because I want to know exactly what mindset and influence created each and every sound. Obsessive, yeah. Anyone wanna suggest a band for me? lemme know. Music is everything because it has super amazing magic powers to dictate and control our mood. Music is nothing because it wont physically do anything. Music wont end a war, but it may inspire someone to.

SNAPSHOT:

Im on the computer. Bashu is in bed beside me. Kian is on the couch in the other room. I just had a bunch of people over, and they all had a pretty good time. I feel best when I am surrounded by friends... I am learning more and more how powerful friendship and love are. By "Powerful", I mean a mixture between really good in that I feel great when I have it, and really bad because I face depression when I don't, or when I dwell on lost ones.

Anyway, G'night beautiful.

PS

JAMES IS BACK!!!

I hate Paris Hiltion.

I hate Ann Coulter.


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Sorry about that. I decided that if anyone asked what the first words of my blog would be, something along the lines of what I wrote above would work. So um, hello everybody. Wait a sec, thats not right. It would be egotistical to assume that EVERYONE reads my blog. (Also, kinda scary.) Hmm...

Hello anybody.
Isn't that the crazy part about blogs? Its alluring and frightening at the same time to think about how anyone, i mean, ANYONE, could be reading this right now. Thats something new. Man, this interblogospherenetwebscape is crazy! Maybe, all my ex girlfriends are reading this all at once. Maybe, no one will read this, ever. Then again, I would be crazy to write a blog to get people to pay attention to me. No, this is how I see it. I am writing in a journal. A journal that anyone can see, if they want.

I'm not making any promises, baby. I wont sell you any crazy stories about positive writing, or frequent posts. You've been lied to too many times, baby. All I can promise you, Internet-Adventurers, Is a warm smile, random commentary on philosophy, politics, and music, and a Pocket full of dreams.