you cleaned up, found jesus. things are good, or so i hear.

I'm watching "The Family Guy" and there was just a scene of Stephen Hawking having sex. You should probably look on youtube to try to find that clip. Sick.

I've decided to make my blog more literal so that i can produce better metaphors.

everyone i know goes away in the end

For about a year, I just couldn't decide what to do after school. Moving far away is such a big ordeal, but there's always that allure. But for the first time, perhaps, I feel some acceptance of my life here in Indianapolis. I think I might be happy here--or at least around here. Of course, there's no guarantee that I'll find a job here.

I'm such a control freak sometimes but there's so little I have control over right now. Maybe life is teaching me a lesson. Maybe I should just roll with the punches. I think I'm doing better with that. But there's constantly a rumbling in the pit of my stomach, a lingering nervousness that rarely fades. Even when you're established and settled down and all, there are no guarantees, but you at least know generally where your life is heading. I miss feeling that pseudo-guarantee. But I know that without change and giving up control, there can be no betterment.

Can I get an amen? Would that even be appropriate? You're all wonderful.

boy, you sure look pretty when you're putting the damage on

I was running through thoughts to blog today but it was sounding far too Carrie Bradshaw. I guess that's the trouble with leading such a ritzy lifestyle. As a result, I'll try to be less Sex-y so as not to rip anyone off.

There are always things in your head that are hard to verbalize and I've been having lots of those lately (it's not just me, right?). Sometimes it's stuff you don't know how to put into words, and sometimes it's just stuff you don't look forward to saying or don't know who to say it to or when to say it, or things you want to say and feel stupid enough just for thinking them but it runs you crazy keeping them inside.

Was Carrie simply a writer with a column to write, or was she an exhibitionist whose friends couldn't provide any real answers so she had to plead to millions of people for validation of those hard-to-verbalize thoughts that most of us normally keep to ourselves? Was it internal strength that provided her the ability to bare her inner workings or was it an insecure search for acceptance?

I know Carrie wasn't real. But of course I am real, though perhaps a bit less ballsy or strong or insecure. Maybe that's why I don't have my movie yet. That, and I make far less sense.

they always said that sex would change you

Personally, I like to hold things over people's heads. So when I see an opportunity, I go for it. Forgive me for being cryptic, but while I like to hold things over said heads, I don't like to be too obvious or intentionally embarrass anyone. That said, I'd just finished chatting with someone last night who asked me to go read his blog, and I started reading, and the blog started out on how the entry was inspired by chatting with someone. I thought, oh, I've inspired another person. How sweet! But then I continued to read, and clearly, I was not the inspiration. I hadn't had this conversation about dropsy, nor any other antiquated disease names or states of disease. Was I crushed? No. Was I surprise? No. Did I see an opportunity? Fuck yeah.

I'm going to leave things there for now. You know who you are. :-)