so the new profile pic is my current addiction.
actually its just a ploy to get more poeple to read my journal, by them thinking im a chick.
.yeah thats a lie, seriously... no really.
i've been pondering writing an entry as a self portrait, where in i systematicly state what i have done, or more prominently havent done, in the last 22 years of life. Granted, I have done a few things worth noting, but my potential has always far far exceeded my actions. i know this not because everyone important to me has been saying that for the last 6 years or so, but because i know me and i know that im better then this.
but, somewhere between the introversion and self pity, came her. First she was that lingering fog in the back of my mind whenever i wanted to be depressed, that light reminder that things arent as bad as i try to spin them into. Origionally i almost resented that reassuring, non blood commited opinion. The one reminding me that i was more then i showed, allowed and gave. But a few years later... stubborn ol me realized that the girl who most would look at as an emotional project was actually truly that. Damn right, she had floaws so frustratng and obtuse that that sometimes burned holes in my ... our.. relationship. Damn right she was a project, but not one unto herself, she was a 2 player, old fashon Contra style project.
Ever play Contra for PS2? its almost impossible, its irritating, mind numbling repetative at times, time consuming... its a goddamn project. I cant beat it by myself so on weekends when i got nothign to do me and my friend Greg will sit down and play it on co-op for hours on end trying to beat it.
She is that kind of project, a project that you cant complete alone. I have grown more grey hairs worrying about her then a man of 22 should, but now i have never been more comfotable and she , for now, seems happier on her worst day, then she ever was on a good day, years ago.
long story short. i'm happy. something enw and foreign to me, so pardon me while i avoid the o so popular emotional batlle armors of irony, cynisism , spelling, and self servingness.
here is to the years, tears, and beers.
i love you.
suppose thats a self portait after all... didnt mean to be when i started typing that.
actually its just a ploy to get more poeple to read my journal, by them thinking im a chick.
.yeah thats a lie, seriously... no really.
i've been pondering writing an entry as a self portrait, where in i systematicly state what i have done, or more prominently havent done, in the last 22 years of life. Granted, I have done a few things worth noting, but my potential has always far far exceeded my actions. i know this not because everyone important to me has been saying that for the last 6 years or so, but because i know me and i know that im better then this.
but, somewhere between the introversion and self pity, came her. First she was that lingering fog in the back of my mind whenever i wanted to be depressed, that light reminder that things arent as bad as i try to spin them into. Origionally i almost resented that reassuring, non blood commited opinion. The one reminding me that i was more then i showed, allowed and gave. But a few years later... stubborn ol me realized that the girl who most would look at as an emotional project was actually truly that. Damn right, she had floaws so frustratng and obtuse that that sometimes burned holes in my ... our.. relationship. Damn right she was a project, but not one unto herself, she was a 2 player, old fashon Contra style project.
Ever play Contra for PS2? its almost impossible, its irritating, mind numbling repetative at times, time consuming... its a goddamn project. I cant beat it by myself so on weekends when i got nothign to do me and my friend Greg will sit down and play it on co-op for hours on end trying to beat it.
She is that kind of project, a project that you cant complete alone. I have grown more grey hairs worrying about her then a man of 22 should, but now i have never been more comfotable and she , for now, seems happier on her worst day, then she ever was on a good day, years ago.
long story short. i'm happy. something enw and foreign to me, so pardon me while i avoid the o so popular emotional batlle armors of irony, cynisism , spelling, and self servingness.
here is to the years, tears, and beers.
i love you.
suppose thats a self portait after all... didnt mean to be when i started typing that.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
fatality:
the ploy worked. i'm new to reading your journal.
allied:
Wednesday's mail arrived. Still no ticket. Where is it? 
Call me as soon as you see this. Regardless of the time. Thanks. 203-820-5149.
Call me as soon as you see this. Regardless of the time. Thanks. 203-820-5149.