And so it goes, and so it goes.

I've been listening to this song all week. Billy Joel is a champion amongst men, for knowing what's wrong with me.

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break

And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows.

Discovery over thoughts

I spent today skateboarding and doing stupid stuff and defacing property with some old friends today. And it very well may have been the best day of my life (well, not quite). It was my opprotunity to be my younger self; to be a child. It made me happier than I've been in months. For once, I didn't care how I looked to those taking the time to look at me; I knew I looked stupid. I looked juvenile. I looked like I was having a hell of a time. And as I sat down at the end of the day, I thought about why I'm always sad, the specific reasons. Often times, as some of you know, I'm concerned with how I'm viewed by my friends, if I'm dressed cool, if I listen to cool music, if I'm smart enough, and stuff like that. I've been trying too hard to change myself to impress these new friends I made, while I've been neglecting those who have accepted me the way I was since as long as I can remember. These friends who will love me, if I'm wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts or a Ben Sherman button up shirt and the trendiest skinny jeans, whether I'm listening to Weird Al or Bon Iver, talking about skateboarders and cars or philosophy and art. They've always been there for me, and I've overlooked them for those I thought were "cool" and "beautiful." These friends may not be the coolest, or the most beautiful, or even the most socially acceptable, but I don't care anymore. They're MY FRIENDS. No matter what anyone says. So James and Paul and the rest of my nutty old crew, YOU ARE ZE BEST. And I hope that when we're all old and bald, we are the meanest old bald men. Cause that'll be the best thing. We'll keep those pesky skateboarders in line. And...3-2-1.....HUUUUUUUUUUGH!!

PS- To all of the friends I've been trying to impress (and you ought to know if it's you), I'm going to be a whole lot different from now on. I may be immature sometimes. Full disclosure. It's gonna be fun, though.

I have no point.
I have no purpose.
I can't go on. Not like this.

Failed Limrick.

Well, here's the deal.

A lot of my friends are writing poetry these days. Here's my attempt:

There once was a boy who liked drawing.
He drew a man with a nose-ring.
He didn't like it,
So he tried to light it...
And the drawing punched him.

Hehe...

Yeah, it's 4:00 a.m.

"I'd like to go reminiscing with strangers, if it isn't too much trouble."

Let's go back to the old days.

Those were the days.
There were ups, and downs.
But the downs were drowned out
By all the good times.
We had homework,
But at least it was something to do.
We hated people.
They left us alone.
We could talk, and not be deep.
We could laugh at stupid stuff.
There was a lot we could do.


Arcade Fire has me in a MOOD, man...let's listen together. For old times' sake.

A thought.

I don't have many friends. I have a lot of people who like me, that run into me every so often.

Call my pa, and tell him you saw me.

I'm just sorry for everything I always do wrong. I talk too much. I try to talk like I'm smart when I'm not, and most of all, I irritate you all with constant text messages and stuff. I'm not cool enough to hang out with anyone, and my summer has entirely consisted of my dad yelling at me to get a job.

I'm feelin' low.