I didn’t write this song

Lately I’ve been plagued by a strange feeling. I guess I can blame the whole, being unemployed for an extended period of time thing, but I just feel like I’m about 4 years old. I go into the kitchen and I don’t understand why it is I can reach the kitchen cabinets. It feels strange to be tall enough to do that…even though I still need a step stool to reach the top shelf but that’s beside the point. I don’t understand ho wit’s possible for me to be a 22 year old woman with a college degree. It feels like that was all a dream, and I’ve been living in this house for the past 22 years writing songs about Doctor Who and blogging.

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If you have something to say, say it to me now.

There are some nights when all you can do is stare…and wait. There are some nights, when reading a comic book simply isn’t good enough. When you’ve lost control of all semblance of focus and you begin to drift away. You float off in your mind to the future, to a time when what happens tonight doesn’t matter anymore because you’ll be back among friends. In that space you are free to say whatever you want, speak to anyone…not be afraid to say hello. Freedom…to just say whatever’s on your mind.

I think too many people take this ability for granted. There are people out there who have no one to share the little amusing seemingly inconsequential thoughts of their day with. It doesn’t have to be a lover, or a family member. Sometimes, most times in fact, I think this role falls to the friends. People who most times have vast stores of their own seemingly inconsequential thoughts to share as well. I cherish these people. On occasion, I think too many things to focus on one stream of consciousness and I need someone to talk to me and keep me grounded. It helps to share thoughts, to keep them in order. I used to feel like I had one of these people…a long time ago. That’s not to say that I don’t anymore, things are just different now. I go through entire days and barely talk to anyone. Instead I find myself engaging in much more…reclusive activities.

Some nights I can’t do anything but think. I just sit and wonder. All I want to know is how you’re doing, but I’m afraid that now just isn’t the time. No that’s a lie, what i’m really afraid of is that things have changed. I’m afraid that things have changed so much that you don’t want me anymore, that you’ve completely and totally moved on. That’s ok I suppose…it’s happened before…I’m sure I’ll get over that someday.

This is one of those nights. A time when just reading The Walking Dead, or writing in my blog, or watching some Doctor Who just isn’t enough to hold my attention. I suppose I’ll just call it an early Tuesday…and try again tomorrow.

Massive Tumblr reblog

Below you will find a series of tumblr posts from last year. I don’t want to lose them forever and I’m deleting the account so…here we go.


Every adventure needs a beginning

Ok so here we go. I like so many before me (or so I’ve read), have decided to embark on a personal experiment. To find one thing every day that makes me want to go on living. Now I know the original intent of these experiments was to find something that made you happy, but I have somewhat varied opinions on happiness…thus! the things that i chose to keep me going may seem a bit unorthodox to some. Rest assured, I will keep on going nonetheless.

Todays post will be in two parts, one to follow the form of my fellow bloggers, and one to express the uniqueness of the day. So without further ado…

Reading Zak’s posts typically make me feel strangely uninteresting. I read through them all just now, in an effort to put off writing my history paper just a bit longer, and I thought about starting my own blog as well. We discussed this a few days ago, probably after choir in those awkward moments after Vocalis is done rehearsing and we decide where to go for dinner. I didn’t really consider it that seriously because I didn’t think I would have anything that interesting to say…or I though that my journal would be enough. And perhaps I’m right, but what the hell. So anyway…Zak’s writing is very enjoyable for me to read. For all the times I spend harassing him, I hope that he knows how much of an inspiration he is to me. He really is my best friend, and I hope that I don’t lose him in the next few years. In the end I (obviously) decided that I would embark on his journey as well. As our lives so often run in parallel I figured that it was about time I joined him. So I’m looking forward to writing this tomorrow, I’m looking forward to searching my life for new and interesting things to share. I’m also happy to simply know that I have someone like Zak in my life to motivate me to do this. Through the sheer influence of the interWebz I am here and the SMB experiment is a go.

end part I…

So today I went to church. for anyone who knows me this would be a strange occurrence under normal circumstances. The choir was singing at a Moravian church on Staten Island and I was actually kind of looking forward to it…except for the waking up at 6 AM part. But the service was wonderful and it made me start to think about some things. So often I say that I don’t appreciate the stereotypified view that many hold of religion wherein you place your fears in God and they miraculously disappear. As with most stereotypes this must invariably be false. I didn’t really realize that I was holding a stereotype until today. How could anyone just let it go, that’s impossible. So apart from feeling like a close-minded git, I found something wonderful in today’s service. I found a challenge. At long last, a question that I could contemplate. Something that isn’t trivial or filled with meaningless 20-something drama. Something that isn’t tied to the people I know, or the feelings I may or may not have about those people. Perhaps those will be things that keep me going another day…but not today. It pleases me to know that there are still challenges out there. I always knew that, I was just waiting for the universe to come around.

…I’m starting to feel better already.

-SMB ❤


I’m always Wrong.

Today was truly a day of very little consequence. I have every right to say so. On occasion however, it is days like this that can keep you going. Nothing spectacular happened. The morning passed by with few irregularities apart from some apparent mental upset in the mind of a friend…but he was just having a weird day. But the day went on and everyone met my expectations of them. Sure my Computer Science teacher decided that he would teach from on top of a table for a few minutes, and randomly switched the side of the classroom he was teaching on but I’ve come to expect that from him. He has a flair for learning to except the unexpected. He encourages us to incorporate something unexpected into our lives from time to time, just to help us see things from different perspectives. It’s difficult though to introduce a truly new perspective into your life on your own.

Just because I change the seat I sit in in class doesn’t mean that I see things in a completely new way. It doesn’t change the way I learn or the way I interpret the lesson, at least not noticeably. All it does is change the amount of space my professors words have to travel through before it will reach my ears. Changing the color of the cup I use to drink my espresso doesn’t change the variable nature of said espresso, it only changes the way I have to hold it. The cup without a handle is a bit tricky to hold, I have to take care not to burn my fingers, but the espresso tastes the same. I cannot very easily change the way I see the world through my own sheer desire. I have to rely on other people for that…and today for just a moment someone came through for me.

I never saw it comin’, and all of the sudden BAM! straight out of nowhere…a hug. Something from nothing. I really appreciated that hug. Whether or not I needed it, or deserved it is another matter entirely, but I really appreciated that hug.

The rest of my day would continue on much as it had previously. I didn’t really feel any different, perhaps I smiled a bit more but it was most likely the consequence of confounding variables. So today I want to keep on living, not for the promise of more hugs or even more moments like this. I want to keep on living tomorrow because today I realized that yesterday I was wrong. Yesterday i felt mediocre…yesterday I felt inconsequential. In the grand scheme of things of course I am, but there’s just a small part of me that knows something. A secret, a secret that I don’t want to share with anyone. It makes me feel selfish not telling it. Maybe I don’t think anyone deserves to know, or maybe I feel embarrassed. I hope that I can find more validation for my secret soon.

It’s so hard for me to believe that people care, but not today.

PS I apologize for being somewhat cryptic, but sometimes the beauty doesn’t lie in the details.



Today is the 16th

It wasn’t until about 11:00 AM that I realized today was the 16th. This day of course means very little to most people, especially those of you who actually read this…does anyone read this? anyway…after 11:00AM my mood kind of went downhill. Nothing really happened…my mind just took a walk down the same path it has every 16th for the past 5 years…and I was left stranded in a sea of loss and exquisite depression. It’s such a perfect expression of death this path that I know. Death and I have a marvelous relationship. There is of course an overwhelming tinge of morbidity about all this blogging business. We are all making an attempt at continuing on for tomorrow…even if it’s just to write something else that we hope someone out there in the blogosphere will read. I tried very hard today to find something interesting to talk about. All day I was dreading getting online in anticipation of letting people down; not having anything uplifting to say. I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about except her story…so here goes.

I didn’t really know her that well. All I knew about her was that she played water polo and we shared the same name. Maybe it was wrong of me to feel a certain kinship with her because of that…after all it’s just a name. She went to my high school and she was a grade above me. I went to school that day 5 years ago, not thinking that day would be very special…kind of like how today was. As soon as I walked in the door I heard the people talking…and crying. We weren’t told for a few hours that anything happened, but in my school it took approximately 20 minutes for word to pass from one end of the building to the other. It was a freak accident…she was supposed to be better after they fixed her teeth. It seemed almost comical…like something only a morbidly comical writer could come up with. But it wasn’t a story, it wasn’t a fabrication, it was reality for that day and every day since.

I didn’t know how to feel for a while, I didn’t know her after all…but I cried for her nonetheless. That day in my gifted class, we talked about marcus aurelius and the fragile nature of things. We talked about being stoical and being content with change…I couldn’t stop the tears. However it helped me to deal with the pain, that and the hugs that I would receive at drama club that evening.

The day passed and I’m still here. It almost seems unfair. How does the universe decide who stays and who goes? She didn’t deserve it…and yet she’s gone and I remain. I didn’t do anything to deserve to stay here, so why do I get to go on? There were so many people that cared about her, so many that still miss her. I can’t explain why I still remember that day every year, but I feel obligated to.

I can’t find much of an uplifting message in all of this for tomorrow, but I am happy that I get to go on. I’m happy that I can say that I’ve been one of the ones left behind. That day, I didn’t really cry for her and I feel horrible admitting that. I cried at the thought of leaving all of my friends and family behind the way she was forced to. I know what it feels like to cause people that pain, I was immersed in it up to my ears and it is anything but pleasant. It was an experience though, and I’m grateful for it, even if it does seem selfish and somewhat twisted. I’m grateful that death doesn’t really scare me per se, and I’m happy that the 16th only comes once a year…

-SMB ❤


7 minutes…

There’s 7 minutes until the bus leaves to go down south. If I leave now I could totally make it. Then I could get coffee…provided I can find someone to loan me 50 cents. I could see everyone and I could be happy…I guess. Lately coffee house hasn’t been cheering me up like it used to. But there isn’t anything else I can think to do.

My computer keeps talking to me and it’s creeping me out.

I would like to leave, I would like for things to play out as I visualize them…wouldn’t we all. But this is rarely how things go. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything more interesting to say. Today just wasn’t a good day that’ll all. Nothing really upset me, but nothing really went right. Ah well…I suppose that less than a week in I’ve failed to find anything to be happy about. I’m sorry to have failed you blog…ugh…



artistic procrastination.

Okay so I know I like really failed…and I’m really sorry. It was never my intention to give up so soon. That’s why I’m here now, writing once again in the hopes that I won’t go on another 3 day hiatus any time soon. Given that I have been gone for some time, I think it only fair to muster up all the feel good life warranting moments that I can from the past few days.

So there’s this one person I know who always asks me if I’m ok. It’s almost like I have some kind of terminal illness (called depression) and he’s afraid of it taking over and becoming some evil monster that erupts from the depths of my soul in the middle of the night and devours what’s left of my happy playful spirit. In his defense I typically am a bit down at the times when we’re together, but it’s not his fault…it’s not really my fault either. It’s simply a consequence of circumstance. So last night we had the pre Vespers show. I was in a pretty good mood because I actually like Vespers, and anything pertaining to it, so I was happy to get to start off the season finally. So I see this person who has almost designated himself as the “guardian of happiness” and I get the usual, how are you feeling? He noticed that I seemed happy and he asked if I had resolved my problems from the past week…I said no. Gotten over them?….no. Forgot about them?…no. Just kind of living with them?…yeah I guess. This has been the pattern of late. Nothing is ever solved, and this problem won’t simply go away, not easily anyway. The moral of the story is that I’m glad there is someone who cares. I’m glad there is someone who wants to make sure that I’m at least living with my problems and not letting them control me. So thank you guardian of my happiness, thank you.

There is another more…obscure…devious…somewhat unsettling reason I’m feeling like surviving today. I almost shudder to think of admitting it to myself. I know that it’s quite wrong of me, but I can’t help but feel satisfied in knowing that they’re jealous…and that’s all I have to say about that.

Stolen glances…unspoken secrets…a yearning of the heart, these are the things that torment me, and these are the things that keep me going. It’s a paradox of reason and of morality, but I cannot help but feel a sense of excitement from it. I know that what I did was “right” in the eyes of a moral man, but I can’t help but feel a pang of regret every time I close my eyes and see what I pushed away. I like to think that in my dreams I’m seeing into the life of an alternate self. That there is another me who knows what it feels like, that there is another me who doesn’t have to keep these secrets. In the end I just can’t help how I feel, and my curiosity drives me through my days.

-SMB ❤


Hope on the Horizon

So I’ve decided that the thing I will write about today hasn’t happened yet. Tomorrow I get to go home. This is kind of a mixed bag of emotions for me. While I’m happy to get away from school for a little while, there are certainly aspects of my home life that I would prefer to not have to deal with. Thankfully I’ll only be home for a few days, so it will be fine. I am currently filled with a highly anticipatory spirit. I cannot wait to breath the free air, at least for a little while. There are times when I simply do not have the fortitude and strength of heart to deal with school anymore. In these times there is only one thing that I can do. Turn to my friend who I am going to name Phoenix, because I don’t know anyone named (or nicknamed) Phoenix, and it’s time to change this.

Phoenix and I have been good friends for about 6 years now. She’s one of my dearest friends, and I think I would be a good bit more insane without her in my life. The onset of a break from school means only one thing, spending time with her and pouring out my heart and soul to her. I can’t wait to have someone outside of everything going on here to just lay everything out to. Call it a protective method, call it self-preservation, I call it friendship. We are kindred spirits her and I. We share a love for the unknown and the unreal. Together we get lost down paths of speculation, and together we are brought back to earth to where physics applies again and we are constrained. With her I can be free to say whatever comes to mind. to not have to walk on eggshells or guard my tongue. She my external expression of my consciousness. Right now I can keep smiling because I know I will be seeing her soon.

while I have some more thoughts I might like to share…I’m going to keep them to myself for now. I’ll need more material over the next few days.

-SMB ❤



simply random

I don’t spend thanksgiving with my family anymore. For the past 4 years or so I’ve at least made an appearance as the special guest at my friend’s thanksgiving. The psychologist and I always have pleasant conversations involving the nature of our studies and argue about the nonexistent differences between Psychology and Neuroscience. So once again I found myself with the psychologist for thanksgiving. Wednesday we got pleasantly tipsy off of Guinness at an Enter the Haggis Concert where I’m fairly certain I scared a few people with my crazy random dancing. It had to be done. Then Thursday we had 3 thanksgivings in a row and I was thoroughly satisfied. Friday we went to the mall…

Let me preface this by saying that no, we were not some of those crazy people who decided to go to the mall at 4 in the morning to try to get the last whateveritwas left at the store. We just wanted to walk.

It was a verrrry cold day, but the psychologist, the little sister of the psychologists boyfriend, and I decided we would leave our coats in the car. I was very happy that I’m addicted to scarves later. The mall wasn’t so crowded that you couldn’t move without getting elbowed in the face, but it was still pleasantly packed with people trying to get some christmas shopping done.

We stopped in gertrude hawk, hoping to get some free chocolate. We asked the sales girls if we might be supplied with said free chocolate and were granted our request with one condition. They requested that we dance…and flail, specifically our arms. Needless to say these were perhaps the more amazing chocolate sales girls I’ve ever met. So we danced and received free chocolate and it was wonderful, perhaps only for the fact that we were required to dance for it.

We continued walking. Sometime after sunset, which occurred much sooner than it should have, a guy about our age walked up to us by the elevator. There were too many people trying to pile into it, and so we aborted. The artist was waiting there, as though he knew we weren’t going to fit in that elevator. He asked us if he could draw us. I was taken aback. Was this some kind of strange pick up attempt? If so it worked…for the moment and we followed him downstairs to some benches set up by a Nintendo display that no doubt was acting as a fantastically successful marketing ploy. He drew us all one by one. I went first, the psychologist, then the little sister. It was just a little sketch, and while I was intrigued by his “personal project” I couldn’t help but wonder why he was really so interested in drawing us. So he drew me as I stared at some poinsettias, though I was really more interested in the scruffy haired guy working at the Nintendo display. All of our sketches came out pretty well and we had fun watching him create little black and white versions of ourselves. He even included my scarf. We left him quickly not wanting to get to involved in each others lives, still somewhat skeptical of the artists motives. Maybe if he was better looking we wouldn’t have scampered away so quickly.

Thanksgiving will never be quite the same I fear.




no one reads this thing…




…ok that’s it. This post is probably more for my benefit than for anyone else….There ya go.



Just needed to write

I always take on this hollow sort of feeling whenever I finish reading a book. When I’m in the midst of it, I dream of the setting, feel the presence of the characters, feel for them. Then suddenly with one final word, and a last punctuation mark, it’s all over again. I have to find a new story to fall in love with. New characters to cling to. It feels like I’m pouring a part of my soul out into the story as I go, and the portion allotted for that book is finally ripped away at last with those few final words.

I’m overanalyzing again I know I am. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I let these crazy notion embed themselves within my brain and I won’t let go of them. They feel so right, the ideas just seem to work themselves out somehow. Like I would be foolish to believe that there wasn’t a chance…that things hadn’t changed. It’s not healthy, it’s not fair. It’s not the right thing to do and yet I can’t keep myself from it. Maybe it’s not as bad as all of that…

Last night I dreamt that I was in the arena…last night I dreamt many strange and vivid things. All of them served as a reminder that my life at it’s most primary level is just a story. A story that has already passed over some of the toughest bits. Right now I feel as though I’m living in the epilogue of my childhood. That the tragedy of the past few years is truly over, and now I’m just left to reap the rewards of victory…in my case the rewards that accompany just being alive. Perhaps the greatest battle I’ve ever weathered…and of course I didn’t do it alone.

Why else would things be going this way? I’m wrong to question it, I like it. I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have everything I’ve been pining for for the past year or so. There is no reason to feel uncertain about things right now…except to say that they could change again. That they could change back. This too could be as fleeting as my own feelings. Those feelings I was so sure I could let go of…

These stories of late have kept me going. Stories of mismatched romance, determined heroism, complete lack of fear of the unknown. I wish to know these characters better, to spend time with them, if only to let them know the effect that they’ve had on my life. I already feel the presence of their spirit so much in my own. So many characters inside me. I have to wonder how much of me is composed of fictional characters. Have I become more brave, more courageous by spending time in the wild with Katniss? Have I become more foolish and unobservant to the effect I have on those around me? Though I’ve heard that I’m fairly adept in that category already…I wonder how much of that is true.

this is just sad everyone else is gone and yet I sit here alone with my computer, wishing I could be there taking part in this one final journey…I know it doesn’t matter, I was there with him when it mattered but I still can’t help but feel a pang of…guilt.

But there was so much pain…there’s always pain and I can’t help but wonder how infectious it could be. I would latch onto it, I would savor it. Enjoying the sense  that there will always at least be sadness to keep me feeling. Sadness is just happiness for deep people right? But what do you think? What do you really think? If you could find the words…what would you say now?

It’s unbelievable how much I allow the stories to come into my heart. There are times when I catch myself not really thinking about my life or my decisions for entire days at a time. Instead I approach my problems as they would, I try to decide how they would solve them. They help me be strong at times too. Imagining what they’ve had to overcome, believing that I can get through the things that plague me if they could fight off dragons and governments to be with the ones they love. I feel such a kinship with some of them, especially Katniss right now. When there are so many things to concern yourself with; family, survival, keeping yourself on task; how do you go about letting love into your life? But you do, because you can’t help it, and because love can be simply unstoppable. All the denial in the world can’t cloud the obvious…

I just can’t help myself anymore. It’s always been this way, but I was too decent to admit it then. Now there’s nothing in the way of my heart letting my feelings reach my brain, and they have, perhaps too much. I’m beginning to wonder at what point in this post I should have stopped writing…at what point I’ll regret having written it at all. Which word begins to ruin things again…or fix them. At what point do you realize that it’s all really about you?…I shouldn’t have said that.

there’s nothing left to say, nothing left to tell. You know it all, and it’s all still true…my rational side firmly believes that you already know all of this. I don’t see how you couldn’t, but I’m open to another surprise…that’s how it all started anyway. That’s what I need now, another shock that’ll stop me in my tracks.


It was almost a good night…

With this semester coming to a swift and all to long awaited end, I feel compelled to count my blessings at school. There are many things about my life here that I have the distinct need to be thankful for, but one of the most important is the CS lab. There s a very special cast of characters that I have the unique honor of coming in contact with on a daily basis. There’s Tomahawk, he’s always prepared for any situation. There’s the Artist, who you’d swear was always under the effects of some substance or another, though he never is…well almost never. Then the Irishman and the Tall-Asian (as opposed to the short-Asian) round out this silly sophomoric group of 4. They certainly keep my life interesting, and my procrastination techniques up to date.

There are several other important characters who I would be remiss not to mention. The three seniors…There’s the Brainiac, he always makes me smile and knows the rules to more board games than anyone I’ve ever known…he also beeps when tickled. The hockey player…one of the finest distractions ever devised by the CS lab. The Giant, who I assure you lives up to his name, though he can be gentle when he wants to.

Then there’s my group. The Greek, who knows more amazing movies and random facts about the world than you would ever want to know…and so you listen with rapt attention. The Gamer, one of my best buds, he’s quiet and I like to think I helped break him out of his shell over the past few months. And of course there’s Alanah, if I were to assign her a nickname in this case it would probably be the future roomy.

Ok so now that i’ve introduced everyone…

The lab has become a second home. It seems as though every year I develop new hiding places for myself. Last year I spent the majority of my time studying for Organic Chemistry in the biology periodical room (or bpr as it’s fondly known). Now I spend all of my time in the lab. I go home to sleep and shower, then I come back. The people who I see here are not always the most pleasant, or even the most friendly. Some may wonder how it is I am able to tolerate spending so much of my time here…sometimes I wonder myself. However, anyone who’s here on a good day, who really knows and understand the lay of the land can tell you that we are all friends here.

Looking forward to next semester, I wonder about how things are going to change. I feel incredibly trepidatious about the prospect about not seeing the three seniors leave. It was so nice to sit and discuss some of the more difficult aspects of college life with the Brainiac. He’s always able to find a positive spin to put on life. I only recall him being truly upset on one occasion…after a particularly bad round of Betrayal at the House on the Hill (it’s an awesome game look it up).

Having been through three years of college up to this point, I am well aware of the fact that relationships are highly mutable. We gain and lose friends faster than the seasons change, thus I worry that come fall semester things will have changed. I would like to remain optimistic, but time has taught me better than that. In some cases I think that the brief period of separation will only make our relationship stronger. For other I fear that we will simply lose touch and have to start all over again next year. Worse things have happened…

So call me crazy, but these characters and the time that we’ve shared are some of the best things I’ve gotten out of my Junior year. I’d be lying if I said I was sad to see the year end. It barely feels like 2 years since I was a Senior in High School, but I welcome the close of my time here. It will be sad, already I feel the pangs of having to say goodbye. Fortunately, I’ve had no choice but to get used to goodbyes, and I’m thankful for that. Unfortunately I cannot say goodbye to my AI class just yet…so I must continue working. Until tomorrow!


Why Hello There!

May is enjoyable for several reasons. This particular month of May has been blessed by the introduction of the EveryDayMay blog-fest! I have, unfortunately, allowed writing to become less and less a part of my life over the past 6 months. It’s time I remedied this problem. Now that the stress of school are almost over I can get back to my writing…I can get back to myself.

For me this blog is a way for me to remind myself how important writing is for my soul. I become bland, reactionary, and superficial without my writing. I can feel my personality change and my sense of self validation fade away. I forget to explore my emotions and so they lose their intensity. I wonder how I could have felt such passion in days gone by, and I forget how to find myself. For a while I tell myself to write, that I need it in order to feel peace again. Days will go by and I’ll continue to ignore my thoughts. Eventually I forget to remind myself to care.

For now I need to use this space to finally explore some of the thoughts that I’ve been holding back…no worries this won’t be an over-emotional angst fest, however my mind has a way of surprising even me. So I’m excited to go on this journey, and I’m excited to have other people to share it with!


Lately I’ve been concerned that my behavior is having a negative impact on my relationships. I would like to believe that the stress of finals and the sheer amount of human contact is merely making everyone feel run down and fed up with school, friends, and just life in general. I am always left worrying however, that something I have done or said has really hurt someone and that I’ll never know it. There aren’t a tremendous amount of people in my life who I consider close friends and the idea of unintentionally causing them emotional distress is particularly…distressing.

There is another possibility however. The possibility that I behave a certain way on the pretense of receiving attention. More specifically on the pretense of receiving attention from a friend of mine. It could also all just be a cry to feed my already over-inflated ego. I’m not ashamed to say that I am a rather egotistical person, I do need a little self-validation from time to time. In my current environment however, most of that self-validation has to come from myself. That’s not a bad thing necessarily, perhaps it’s good for me to be humbled a bit…or perhaps i’ll just get used to it.

I hate to bore everyone with my first post, I do hope that you’ll come back for more tomorrow when I’ve had more time to collect my thoughts and write about something more intriguing. I just needed a little stream of consciousness writing tonight.