where all the great rambling epics get their hollywood start. Minus great, epic, and hollywood - that's where we are. In the middle of things. (Things being an equivalent of nothing.) Here is where I begin my great saga; of which I omit the past chaotic years of glorious academic success; amorous, intoxicated and consistent, yet strangely enjoyable, drunken suffering; jobs that were nothing short of "wicked awesome"; and most importantly being surrounded by bestest of friends plus an array of other rad people at all times for two years.
That which is included in this great saga is "the now", forget the rest. It's too awesome to speak of and heaven forbid I get teary eyed.
Why forge past the nostalgia? I'm in hiding. I am wasting my precious social graces for a few months to attain a sense of selflessness with a side of enlightenment. No really, I am bullshitting you.
I'm broke as hell, and I'll be moving overseas in a month so I moved in with mom-and-dad for the summer. It's a money-saving/rehabilitation/family-time period in which I work 14 hours a day, then proceed to fall of the face of the earth.
Thus, the reinvention of the archaic journal with the sappy username and entries from when I was 14. God, I was such an asshole.
It's my public outcry for human contact, or maybe an outlet for my pontifications overflowing from my newfound free time to think.