this is what living like this does

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The title of this entry is a reference to times. Times of the past. Things that happen, then become memories all too quickly. This year has been the longest yet. Well, I guess there have been some long years, but this one contends...
and it's almost through, in the...well, school sense you could say. I have spent this year laying around sulking in the past and the present and the truth is that, as of yet for me...the only meaning you can truely love in this life is the future. Faith. Faith in yourself and in the potential of others and in your ability to get drunk if you can't otherwise maintain.
I can say, as of yet...I'm no quitter and I...well...I exist, effect people and I affect them. I do. You do to, never question that. Ever.
I have had, in this year, some friendships and relationships that have established for me that there is such thing as a true connection and a true need for love and acceptance.
We live as if there is something to prove, it leaves so many lonely in the end. So many. There always has to be something to do and expectations make us sick with it, we can't seem to live and to love and to love ourselves, until we realize we hate everything. Nothing is good, no, nothing. But is everything bad? Yes!
No. Life is good. Life is you. What you think of life is really what you think of yourself. Things aren't fair? You're not fair to yourself. You think life is slapping you in the face? You slap your fucking self, so shut the fuck up.
Although you hit me hard, I come back.
That's right, and if you think I'm bullshitting you, say something. Yeah. Try and do something about it, you son-of-a-bitch.
When you feel something so strong...love, hate, peace, jealousy, satisfaction...you are ALIVE. Hey, you are ALIVE. Newsflash.
Why waste it? Why waste your valuable TIME on anything so silly as something that is not yours to maintain in the first place, something you didn't create, something you didn't decide...you are life. How do you want life to be?
You don't know. Yeah, maybe you do. So do it. YOURSELF. You're not stuck, the past is what you base your experience on and you keep on living. It's so epic.
It's a romance with yourself you are living, scene by scene, play by play, it's yours. Get lost, find yourself, find those things about yourself that make you so happy or so angry that you puke all over the street or you sofa or your own bed. Then do it. Then embrace it. It happened, it's done and it's yours. You ought to clean it up, though. Yeah, that would be beneficial.
You don't have to worry about me, but you can. I wouldn't be freaked out, I wouldn't judge. I would listen to what you've done, and more importantly what you've learned from it. All I have is my life to hit you back with. I all I have is what you have, you have me too. That's it. Me and you...them...us. This is our story. That's it.
I could drink to that. I will. This is my life, and it's ending one second at a time, and ending and ending and ending. It's ending?
Sometimes. Sometimes it still feels I'm beginning one second at a time, and that's what it means to me. At least it means something. At least it fucking means something. That's it.

Don't ask me to explain.

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Now that school is winding down and I am in somewhat different spirits, I feel it is time again to commit to updating my blog. I can say fully and surely that I will be overjoyed to GET THE HELL OUT of this apartment. 1 week left!
My wonderful roomates failed to inform me that one of their friends from Pendelton, OR was MOVING INto our place this sunday. So now there are 4 people living here and there are piles of dirty junk laying around everywhere, including a near-scrapped motorcycle ON OUR PORCH. If I wasn't getting the f* out so soon, I would be looking for someplace else to live. To be honest, though, this new person has distracted the other two enough for them to leave me to my own business. Lately the story around here has been that my two roomates are now doing each other, for some reason or another, and I guess they think it's funny to try messing with me in their own silly ways, ones I have been witnessing them do to eachother this whole year. I think the gang-up-on-Alyssa bit would bother me more if it were still, say, april...but it's not, it's JUNE and it's nice not to have time to worry about it. It's just hard to concentrate when you're living space looks like the aqua-teen hunger force's house (specifically when shake decides to fill the house with raw chicken and burn styrofoam to stay warm). Well, it's not that bad, but there WAS raw chicken found in the outside storage closet (from god knows when) and I have had to regulate the burning of plastic a few times now. Ugh.
*inhale*
Okay...so I went off there a little. These things happen.
After talking about this situation with my mother this past weekend, I have realized that I have learned about the same amount, if not more, outside classroom this year. Especially considering I'm a psych major, living in this small-town bizzarro world has taught me all to much about the dynamics of the existence of those with self-inflicted depression (a condition more and more prevalent these days). Neurotics are a handful and there habits get contagious, let me tell you. But we all have these experiences, right? Right.
So, on another note, I have broken myself out of what I consider to have been quite a monotonous music phase. Yeah, I was purely in saddle creek/sigur ros mode there for about a month and a half. It wasn't bad, just limited. New(/back) in the rotation include The Decemberists, Of Montreal, Joanna Newsom, Aimee Mann, Neva Dinova, CocoRosie, SDRE, Les Savy Fav, Belle and Sebastian, Camera Obscura and Cat Power with a little Bob Dylan, Radiohead and Immortal Technique. I really want to get my hands on a Blue Scholars album, but alas I have only enough money for bread and tomatoes. The Blue Scholars are a hip hop duo, from Seattle I believe, who deliver both educated, politically conscious flows and sweet beats simultaniously and consistently. I caught them live at the Sasquatch Music Fest and I was almost as impressed as I was sunburned (which was A LOT). I have decided that I also need to get into Japanese punk...why, I couldn't tell you. I just do.
Alright, it's about time I get back to the books. As always, thanks for stopping by, if anyone does, and take care.

Catholic Guilt and Grenadine: on the balcony's, um, cousin I suppose. Need a novelty fix? Check it out.