... And Would Walk 500 More

Mood: sick
Now Playing: I'm Gonna Be, The Proclaimers

Oh god i am sick. Like as in capital S sick. I keep on sneezing and i can't sleep and i just want some spicy cha han with some wanton on the side.

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I just recently watched the ending of How I Met Your Mother and the appearance of the mother is just... wow. I kept expecting some plot twist to happen. But no. She had the bass guitar, she wore boots, and was also going to Farhampton. She also had that fucking yellow umbrella. aslkjlasdfj. Part of me didn't want to believe it. The series is finally fucking ending, you know? There is only so much that the mind can process.

I've been watching this show really closely with two of my friends, and all of us had the same sentiments when we finished watching. Just. Wow. It's really happening. It's really going to end. The whole cast of actors are looking really old right now - even Barney. I'm not sure how i feel about that. Part of me is excited. But there's also a part of me that's really scared it's going to end. It's like fucking graduation again.

I guess in some way or another, watching a show end makes you aware of the passage of time, eh.

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In other news, i'm planning on buying a camera~ It's a Lumix LX7 . Maybe then i'd consider putting more photos here, y know. I'm not exactly much of a photographer, and i won't even go so far as saying that i know the basics. I'm not sure where i stand on the whole level of shooting things. But i guess sucking at something is the first step to being sort of good at something, eh?

Yep

Mood: none Now Playing: none

It feels like forever since i've written down anything here. I don't know what happened.

Actually, that's a lie. I know exactly what happened; i started writing. Then I stopped. There are so many reasons to write, i know, I used to say that. I believed in things. I believed that In The Writing we put down to paper the lines in our head. I did. But right now, there are just about a thousand reasons not to.

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Today is May 5th, and right now i have a lot of pending drafts here. It's incredibly cluttered. It's... just so messy here.

I'm still at my job. I type a lot faster right now than my old college self, and i don't trip as much as i do say, last year. It feels like so much has changed, but at the same time, so little. I don't know what i want to feel. To feel is to lie yourself on the ground, susceptible and unsuspecting.

Just yesterday, i kind of talked it out with two people from work and i found myself saying things that i've always known were in the back of my head that I was just scared to admit.  Maybe it was a bad idea to think too much, when i was just starting to get out of a hole i dug for myself. But it happened. And now i'm writing again. I don't know how long i can delude myself into thinking that things will get better soon. I know things will get better, yeah. I just don't know how soon it'll have to be.

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I think of everything that happened
in the shape of bus tickets
that i purposely misplace
in the crevices of my bag,
in between a book i read and
in pockets, cups, and cases
so i could look everywhere

and be reminded of
the placesi have seen
and how much more

i have to go