Copy and paste from November 16th.

I think I put too much emphasis into a new house to bringing friends, to me being happy. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the Christmas break, maybe the it's in the water, but this break sure has been anti-climactic in the biggest sense of the word. From the storms that never quite hit, to Phoenix trips that weren't quite long enough, this breaks sure got me where it counts.

Maybe, just completely realistically, I won't ever quite fit in how I want to. I might not ever have that go-to person. Ever again.

Maybe it's just bad milk. Maybe I just need a nap, or new CD.

808s.

Not a bad CD by any means, a little much of the same, but still some real good songs. A little sappy, but it's cool.

"Did you know that our sub-atomic particles interact with each other?"

I couldn't make this up. I was at Starbucks, and still am, working on my paper for English 105 more or less, and I sat in one of the big comfy couches so I could have an outlet to use, and happened to sit next to one of my regulars who so thoughtly educated me on sub-atomic philosophy, and quantum (sp) physics. All arrogance aside, it was a really interesting conversation. We talked of social networking sites, text messaging, and blogs; all things getting more and more common in our society, and the isolation they can, and often do, create. I was walking from my house to Starbucks. It's maybe a mile or so, and I was text messaging with a good friend of mine, darn near best friend, and for some reason that's our usual interaction. We're both outside of class and work, no reason to have to be quiet, but we very rarely talk over the phone. I have numerous friends who perfer text messages to phone calls, and I never gave it much thought until this evening, and still haven't really sat on it a whole bunch, but his point really got to me. Why is it that so much of us are so okay with text messages, not much more than 100 characters per message or so, and so against phone calls, most of which last no longer than twenty minutes or so. Where did our attention spans go? What's so wrong with wanting to call someone? Or even to physically talk to someone.

Even more so, we're this snooty, pretentious, sarcastic group on a whole I feel like. If we want to compliment or connect, we do it in such a way we don't really put ourselves out there. There's still a bit of bite behind it.


I don't have my thoughts very well-organized on this right now, just like my Eng. 105 paper, and I'll probably never go back and really re-visit this by any means, completely unlike my Eng. 105 paper, but with so many interactions in any given day, going to a university and working at Starbucks and all, his point is going to stick in the front of my brain for a few minutes.

Nothing more, nothing less.

There are some days, nights, weekends, weeks, months, and semesters that can absolutely crush me and remind me why I dislike living in Flagstaff so much.
Nothing more, nothing less.

Life is good.

And life also goes on without me. Completely. And I can be kind of snotty sometimes I realized tonight.
Now it's time to make sure my life goes on as well.

Here's to home away from home, when there really isn't a home to go to anymore.


You're a stubbon jackass, and you've got more soul than a pair of Timbs; don't let it go to waste.

Srrsly?

I'm not disappointed in the least bit, but definitely surprised, and taken back a bit. I just hope you can relate more now and appreciate where I'm coming from up here. I've got this stupid need to feel justification for what I'm going through up here. I'll get one thing straight though, you've got a lot of soul, and you're a stubbon jackass; don't let either of those go to waste.

Maybe I should follow suit. If I don't make the music education program there's no justification for staying miserable up here.

The reality though is that I'm as stubborn as you are, but lacking all the soul.

We got inches

and breaths away, just not too close, 'cause is close enough.

Last calll;

well it's that metaphorical and realistic last call now.

It's 2AM and time for the lights to come back on, and to take a look around, to get a good look at what you were dancing with, and who you've become. It's 2AM and time to sober up, to leave, and hope to God you don't get caught and make it home okay. Chalk one more down, and swear you're invincible.

It's that last call, of the last night, of however you mark your calendar; in years, months, weeks, or weekends.That last call and it's time to down whatever you can get your hands on, and top off your gut that could already drown a fish. Time to say goodbye to strangers you swear are your friends, and friends that might as well be strangers. It's time to round everyone up, and head out again. To sober up, pray to god you make it home okay, and that you don't get caught. Chalk one more down and swear you're invincible.

And some of us will wake up next to someone we love, someone we know, or someone we can't even recognize; let alone recognize ourselves.
And some of us will tell the stories of nights full of the glory, or shame, or explanations for compromising positions.

But one more time, more than anything, it's last call, those lights are back on, we can take a look around and see who we've got, and see who we are; not who we thought we were, and sober up, head out, pray to God we make it home okay, and chalk one more night, weekend, summer, season, or year down; one more time we could've swore we were invincible.

That summer haze

Everything that goes with summer is starting to go with summer. The invincibility, and anything else that may go with that, all starts to fall back down right behind you. And the reality sets back in that everyone will go back to their schedules. And then the reality sets in that this was nothing more than a distraction for some of us.

If I could

I'd love you 'til the end like he should and you wish he would but never will. Because love it or hate it, and hate to admit it, we're all we have. And love it or hate it, and get sick to yourself thinking about it, but there might not be everything hoped for. This could be all there is for a happy ending. Now think to yourself how crazy that sounds. And sit on this for a few days, maybe a week and some change, 'cause I'll never feel how I feel with you, with anyone else. And all the crazy talk, and over-the-top emotions, all the good and bad aside, I've always made my way far away and right back where I started.
You've made your peace and pushed everyone away, but just put a little tug out there and you'll find how close everyone still is; trust me. Buh-lee dat.

Just hit the 17 South; you'll find so much more love here than you could ever hope to find next to him.

Sufjan said it best,

"I was in love with a place in my mind."

It rained all night

and we sat in the dark, but I think for the first time I really saw your eyes.

A few nights ago, last week or so

I realized that sometimes there's no thunder and lightning when it's raining; no blinding flash to catch your attention. And sometimes the sparks that fly, explosions in the sky, and lights off in the distance are sometimes little more than wishful thinking as an airplane flew by. And every streetlight that came and went reminded me of the last little bit of faith I couldn't hold on to but bear to let go of.

0/4.

'nuff said.

It's still early, but it's been that way for quite some time now.

Home is where the heart is. Or is it home is where you make it? Regardless, it's something; almost the one thing, I've been looking for for quite some time now. As I said earlier, and have said who knows how many times, I never felt at home in Flagstaff. I definitely had groups of friends I felt comfortable hanging out with towards the end, and there were/ are a handfull of people who mean a lot to me, but as far as really feeling home with anyone up there, that isn't the case at all. Not yet at least.
I said a few nights ago on this that I was expecting to get back to Phoenix and have that WELCOME BACK feeling everwhere I went, with everyone and I saw. And it was everywhere I went, with everyone I saw except the one person I wanted to feel it from the most.
This might just be a trait of mine that won't ever change, one of the few, but I don't think anyone will ever be as excited for me as I am for them; and no homo, this guy is no exception.

Another eight months and you'll come back around again.

On my own again.

Okay, so not really on my own, it's really early into the summer, and I'm sure I'm making a skyscraper out of a Lego set, but after an extremely long year and even lonlier second semester with no one to call a best friend up in Flagstaff, I was sure looking forward to spending some serious quality time with that guy that I do call my best friend. Period. And granted we did hang out tonight, and I had a blast with everone, I was honestly a little bummed when I found out I wasn't the first person he called to hang out for tonight. Immature? Yes. Caddy? Yes. Anything else annoying and selfish? Probably. But I'm okay with that, and am going to hit the "PUBLISH POST" button anyways. For some reason this has always been an issue for me. The second best or Plan B mentality, and I don't know why that is. And it isn't like it's for any real reason, or any specific people or person.

Sorry guys, just keeping it real.

I'd love to call or talk,

but there's nothing to say. Or maybe it's just that there's nothing to say yet. Because I'm always the one to make the first move; to suck it up and just let it blow over. Or maybe it's just that for once I'm going to take steps to letting this fall apart finally, because this is years in the making; and the confrontation, however unlikely, is necessary for any resolution other than letting it lie.

Even Hellen Keller could've seen this and called it out years before me.

6:27 AM

Well Jesus Christ, it's 6:27 and I'm all alone again. So did you really do what we're all hoping you did? And are you even half the man that everyone's hoping for? Because I've got this gut instinct, and I can't be the only one who feels it. But is it just something we're feeling out of guilt? Hoping that there's something more to this? Because there could be nothing after this, but there's no comfort in that.

There could be nothing after this.

There could be nothing after this, but there's no comfort in that, or any motivation for right or wrong in that. And despite all the cynicism and dry tone, I've got that gut instinct that tells me you're everything we're all hoping for. And that what was written about you doesn't even compare to what you did.

You caught me lying to myself again didn't you. I might not believe it, but that faith I'm searching blind for keeps my stomach in knots and my mind racing. Because there could be nothing after this, or you could be all there is at all. Just keep that knot in my stomach tight, I swear to you and you alone that I'll come back, but if you're half the man we all hope you are, you know that so much more than I could ever say.

"Out of the depths have I called unto Thee, Oh Lord. Lord, hear my plea."