There has been a pivotal shift in my world. A reclamation of something I thought was lost and left behind. A piece of me that came back into the forefront of my self awareness that has brought me to a point where I know I need to say goodbye to this blog. It's no longer a point of amusement for me. Or a point of reflection. It's just the last link between me now and me then and I have literally nothing else to say anymore, in this capacity.
I know a few of you come here that are active parts of my life, and if you wish to continue to catch up on my verbal onslaughts, then feel free to email me and I'll give you the address to my new blog.
But to those who come here for some sort of nostalgic reaffirmation or weird desire to know my goings on despite everything that has happened - my best to you always. Truly.
But you're not a part of me for a reason. And I think it's about time you come to terms with that and move on. Your whole life is waiting for you. So get on with it.

Somewhere along the way, without realizing it or noticing it, we wake up from being an undefinable mess to being a creator of definition.
There's no warning signs or things to look out for. Just small tokens of hope scattered amongst our day that let's us learn and grown and become self aware enough to realize that that day has come. And when it does - the whole world becomes a different place. It becomes an outstretched version of its previous self. It contains beauty where there was once nothing. It becomes settled where there was once chaos. Our heart aligns with our head and our feet and we move forward together towards something that, despite never being able to be defined, is a perfect example of who we are. Our future is our destiny and you really do get to choose how it happens.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
The path to restful slumber - also paved in good intentions.
I've been off work for what feels like a month. That's what happens when you tack on some mandatory vacation time to the end of one set and the beginning of another. I think I get something like 11 days off. I don't feel like counting.
I spent four of those days in vegas. Double vodka crans and a side of blackjack. I'd spend my life there if I could. But I imagine I'd end up finding just as little purpose in that, as I tend to find in 'regular' life too. So I struggle to see the point. (Other than the obvious everyone has to have a dream)
So I knew eventually a day would come when I'd hear some off side news about the past returning to the present. I'm not surprised. People come and go to my city every day. And I have no real territorial right to this city. In theory. In practice I'll piss on every street corner that I have to. Or maybe it's the other way around. Who knows.
I should be making more of an effort to sleep. I only have 3 more days before I have to give up on my dream of being a domesticated house wife and return to the working world.
I really have no complaints. I really love my job. I just also really love no alarm clock. So my dedication to finding the appropriate time to slumber is pretty well absent.
So I'll sit still here and ask myself impossible questions about memories and how they form and how they can be removed. Like eternal sunshine only with less camp and more forgetting. Can the possibility of remorse be actually carved out in stone, set to some music. Danced to the outside. Can it be changed to fit whatever I need it to fit. Can I manifest a greed or selfishness out of thin air to just consume me fully so I can brush my consciousness off as some lapse in judgement? Is that a thing? Like breakfast for supper? Can it just be a thing we make trendy and popular and resolve to it just being-that-way?
No.
I suppose not.
Oh well though. You can't fault me for trying.

I keep finding myself waxing nostalgic for a moment or two about having someone willing to leave at 2am and find a hill overlooking the city and smoke cigarettes and listen to the pretty reckless or aimee mann with.
I don't feel particularly nostalgic for my exes or any previous relationship. Just for the spontaneity of getting up to nothing and everything all at once.
I suppose it's the downfall of adolescence and the upswing into full blown adulthood that confuses me the most. Despite my ability to rationalize and embrace things in a better way, I still pretty much feel the same way about most things today as I did ten years ago. Twenty years ago.
Is there a point where we must enforce a distinction between the two? Or is there some grey area here that is some magical untouched market that I've missed somehow.
I miss the city lights. I miss cigarettes and I haven't listened to aimee mann in years.

There's more to embrace in the journey, than there is in the victory.

If you lived here, you'd be home by now.

It's either this, or it's that. But never both together.
And you brush aside your thoughtful mind, your held tongue, and carry across the threshold of this place  - some kind if secret wanting.
I remember breakfast coming too late in the day to really be called breakfast, but we did it anyways. And sometime between the waffles and the omletes we came to a silent agreement that this would be the end of us and the start of me.
I broke bread and shared a few too many pieces with the strangers who guided me back to this home. To this place. To that. And thanked then as candidly as I could without seeming too desperate for their approval.
But you disappeared again, in the smoke. In the flame. And I still have trouble finding any part inside of me to care whether you land on your feet or not.
It should go without saying - as I sit here breathing frost - that we remain in tact despite the threat of destruction.
It should go without saying. But I've gone and said it anyways.

There's always a common theme running around my head, around everyone's head (if you ask me) about understanding and acceptance and the literal truth about life. I never seem to put any ideas into focus anymore. Just hazy thoughts lingering on the outside of my squishy frontal lobes. They keep asking to be up front and center, but I avoid them like I avoid you. Like I avoid calling people out on reading my blog who really have no business being here. Like I avoid dairy and anything resembling accountability these days. They just stay thoughts. Lodged up in my brain. Waiting for their turn.
I guess every answer we get is really just more questions. That's how things work. That's what we must accept as our truth if we want to remain 'sane' when faced with moments of insanity. You may get one ounce of real honest to god truth from this life, but once you understand that truth, that's when shit gets real. And I'm guessing from our track record (as a collective whole - as in all of us) that shit getting real isn't really our best moments to appreciate.
I want to say dear me. Dear my previous self. My future self.  People always tell me that things will get easier. And I'll just adapt to this new normal. But the truth is I see you everywhere and in everything and I wish I knew what to do with it all.
My dad gave me the most true piece of advice I've ever gotten a few years ago, that once you accept the truth that there is no such thing as universal justice, or universal fairness, your life becomes a lot less complicated.
While this is true. True beyond any reasonable doubt. When you've spent handfuls of years on the trained end of believing otherwise - it takes some getting used to.
Really. If I was going to say anything to my previous self I would simply say, don't make threats or promises born out of anger or resentment. Say no more. Say yes more. Try to understand that everyone just wants their own happy ending, and they are under no obligation to include you in it. But also understand that that statement works both ways. And that no one is entitled to your happy ending unless they earn it. And to my future self I guess I just have to say, earning it counts both ways too.
There is no accounting for humility in life. Or regret. And truly. Someone without regrets is lying to themselves. Regrets just mean you realize you did something wrong, or had a chance to be better.