Overwhelming
There's a lot to bring up here.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of it all, so we're going real old school with this. Well, or at least as old school as I can still channel in my aging years. ('Cause oh man I'm so old.)
So over a year ago I moved out, and from there I sort of dropped off the radar and went on this wonderful (and at times, hellish) adventure into living on my own. There was a lot of craziness. We smoked, drank, and generally went an rewrote the book on raucous behavior and generally being ridiculous. Trust me, while I was gone I wasn't in school, but I was getting my learn on with my friends and generally rediscovering both the fond things I had lost and the dark things that creep in the night of the soul.
There's more story there than a single entry can handle, and if you were there, then you know what I mean, and if you weren't there, well you can always buy me a round and we can talk it over.
I want to start doing this more often, and I've truthfully got the time to, but I feel like something is holding me back, like I'm not ready yet. I can't tell why, but with each passing day I feel a welling deep within me of the words I want to whisper into the night. Because the magic in the fairy tales still lives on. Those whispers at dusk on the starlight night when the last rays of the sun slide below the horizon are spirited away into the night, gliding over the beds we sleep in and sneaking into our dreams and our nightmares, enchanting the world we have left.
I want to go on a road trip around the world, where we'll look for the magic still left seeping from our dreams into our realities. It just occurred to me, maybe I don't need to write to enchant my world anymore, I think I found another source for my magic now...
And no, its not drugs. Haha! Though that's usually where magic seems to lie these days.
Ground control to Major Tom!
Psychonaut out.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of it all, so we're going real old school with this. Well, or at least as old school as I can still channel in my aging years. ('Cause oh man I'm so old.)
So over a year ago I moved out, and from there I sort of dropped off the radar and went on this wonderful (and at times, hellish) adventure into living on my own. There was a lot of craziness. We smoked, drank, and generally went an rewrote the book on raucous behavior and generally being ridiculous. Trust me, while I was gone I wasn't in school, but I was getting my learn on with my friends and generally rediscovering both the fond things I had lost and the dark things that creep in the night of the soul.
There's more story there than a single entry can handle, and if you were there, then you know what I mean, and if you weren't there, well you can always buy me a round and we can talk it over.
I want to start doing this more often, and I've truthfully got the time to, but I feel like something is holding me back, like I'm not ready yet. I can't tell why, but with each passing day I feel a welling deep within me of the words I want to whisper into the night. Because the magic in the fairy tales still lives on. Those whispers at dusk on the starlight night when the last rays of the sun slide below the horizon are spirited away into the night, gliding over the beds we sleep in and sneaking into our dreams and our nightmares, enchanting the world we have left.
I want to go on a road trip around the world, where we'll look for the magic still left seeping from our dreams into our realities. It just occurred to me, maybe I don't need to write to enchant my world anymore, I think I found another source for my magic now...
And no, its not drugs. Haha! Though that's usually where magic seems to lie these days.
Ground control to Major Tom!
Psychonaut out.