Sometimes, it's pretty darn awesome to have a blog. For me, it has morphed from a weirdly embarrassing narcissistic outlet some ten years ago to a more private personal notebook today. Private because no one reads this anymore, yes? ;) Well, the most private of thoughts/feelings never come through explicitly, but it does help jog the memory regardless.
It's often horrifying but enlightening to scroll through your silly immature thoughts of the past, realize on hindsight what terrible decisions you've made in the past, what pointless things occupied your mind, what embarrassingly unimportant events were so important to you, but reflect on how they have ultimately made you who you are today.
Some day I will read this, shake my head, and wonder why I was so pensive and dramatic. Silly old me.
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Evelyn
I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross / to reach you. For I am in love with you / and this is what it is like or what it is like in words.
Carol Ann Duffy
When I grow up, I'd like to be a cream puff. A cream puff with apricots, or even a plain one. Lukewarm at the bakery. In the window.
Jeux d'enfants
No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
Samuel Beckett