I remember one of the things I was gonna say last night when I left that post hanging.
The repetitive cycle of life? The pointless ventures of school and vegetating? I'm still here.
I dunno what's changed. Maybe it's just my outlook because I'm like "I'll be out of this hellhole soon enough." Or maybe it's because I've gotten a bit more social? (I used to practically not talk at all in any of my classes. And a life outside school? Yeah right.)
Well, the DDR gave me a social life, more or less. Glenn keeps telling me this.
Story goes: If we--he, rather--wasn't so obsessed with DDR, we wouldn't have gone to the mall as much as we have and we wouldn't have made those friends. (A good bunch, indeed.) If I wasn't bitching about playing DDR when I was talking to Ryan Rick at MSA, Megan wouldn't have overheard me that first time. (Though I doubt that has ANYTHING to do wih anything, it's a good coincidence that I remember that's EXACTLY where we met--I was talking DDR, baby.) According to Glenn, I owe my entire life's turnaround for last year to DDR.
I kinda believed it until I thougth about... My car. Fool. THat's where it's at, baby.
My life's pretty much in a situation that's the same as last year's. Same reptition and whatnot. I've just found myself dealing with it more. Maybe it's because I've got people to talk to who can relate, or maybe it's just because of those minute differences.
In 2002, I opened a site up called "Detached Empathy," a blog of sorts. Didn't expect anyone to read it--actually, I didn't want people reading it at first. Then I kinda eased into being comfortable with letting other people read my venting out--thanks to MSA killing a few shyness cells--and I blatantly advertised the site (then renamed "Vagrant") since then. I don't remember why I started. It sounded like a trendy thing to do, I guess. And when I realized I could spill my mind out without anyone in particular looking or caring or anything, that's where the real deal started coming through.
Sometimes I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs at random at school. I'm glad I'm too shy to seriously give it another thought.
I just woke up. My brain's not prone to advanced thinking within 10 minutes of conciousness.
Let's get some food. Breakfast... Lunch... whatever the hell you call it. At 1:30pm. yeah.