I’m in turmoil and that’s good. It’s temporary and intense because its deadline driven. Unfortunately, great accomplishments don’t occur when you’re happy and content. When you’re happy the years fly away and then you’re constantly having “fuck me, I’m 33” moments. When there’s tremendous stress in your life, you’re simultaneously experiencing every supremely stressful time of your life that occurred beforehand. But all those gloriously miserably times are the ones most often followed by greatness. It’s 4:21 am and time to pull another rabbit out of the hat.

2013.

WTF.

Wasn’t It just 1992? Wasn’t i just in grade 8 wondering how unfathomable life would be this far in the future? Wasn’t I just falling into a deep crush on 13 year old Cher because she seemed so edgy and sophisticated for listening to NIN at lunch on a CD and wearing sexy boots to school? Wasn’t I just worrying about fitting in at high school?

Seriously. WTF.

I’m in my 30s. I own a motherfucking house. I have a fiancé. I look like a grown ass man.

I hate that my life is burning away so quickly. I hate it because I love life too much.

There’s something about The Secret of Nimh that is profoundly sad.

08/09/12

I’m mostly drunk.

My company had a get together. The CEO hosted the party.

If there is always some truth in jest, then is it wise that I shut up when people are jesting? I might cut too deep if I tried to jest.

Why when I’m alone does it feel like all existence is a tragedy. What is wrong with me.

Wait I know. 5 bordeaux, and a Liffe.

It’s hot today.

This site has turned into what it always should have been.

My own personal virtual black hole.

I’m personally growing just like the black hole. Or maybe the growing is just virtual.

The passage of time makes my old writing on here seem foolish and embarrassing. I don’t know if I’m maturing, or if everything in the past always just comes off as naive.

The new Staples composition mini notebooks are terrible. They pages come out if you turn them once or twice. They never used to be this bad. My black one at work looks like a Frankenstein monster after I’ve scotch taped the bejezus out of it.

I’m playing Skyrim for PS3 now. I finished Red Dead Redemption. Such a big kid. Live with girlfriend in a house with a massive yard and trees in the back. I’m exactly what I hoped I would be at 32 when I was 10.

I want to punch people I see wearing “Life is Good” t-shirts and tire covers on their body and cars. But life is good. There is no denying it. I’m one of lucky ones.

Hmmm

It’s liberating to click the private button and write.

There’s probably a lot lurking under the surface. Not lurking. Lingering. A mash of frustration and angst. Even when things are going well.

Are things going well?

It’s 11:50pm. I have to be in my car at 6:40am tomorrow morning.

I’m in a dark house by myself. My house.

I don’t have as much alone time as I used to. That’s not a bad thing I suppose.

Darkness and music amplifies the significance somehow. Conditions to compel pitching a few thoughts into the void of my empty blog.

Tomorrow’s my last day at my present company. They got me a cake. Start a new job one on Monday that should be better.

Fuck everything.

He’s going up again. I need to focus.