ME FUCKING TOO.
I haven't posted all that much lately because, when it comes right down to it, there are things I'm doing lately that I'm just not all that sure you'd
The strange part is that I read everyone else's entries and I know that it's highly unlikely that I'm going to remember any of them. In the end, you'd be surprised what you forget. There is a new tragedy somewhere every single day. Somebody's always writing a book or giving a speech or painting a picture that they hope will haunt your memory until you die, but the human mind is only capable of holding 5-7 (+/- 2) separate pieces of information at a time, so it's unlikely that I'm going to remember any single blog entry, just like I'm incapable of remembering the exact contents of a single letter I've ever received.
I feel bad, but not really.
I think that what this means is that, for a while, I'm moving to a more reality-based model. I am in the mood to spend more time with my friends. To see their faces and hear them tell me jokes. I am in the mood to leave my house and spend time with other people. Not that it's likely to happen, but for a while, if I'm feeling lousy, it'll be because of my inability to see people enough.
Just so you know.