I had a real fun time last night, one of the funnest times since summer, by far. I was in the nicest house I've ever been in, full of lots of really nice things, surrounded by genuine people whos company I enjoy a great deal. I didn't let go, in that I didn't let my guard down too much, like i want to, like I'm going to have to one day. But I still felt real good going to bed last night, feeling like things are okay.
I miss my dog a lot.
There's an inexplicable sadness that fills the majority of my friends, I can understand it, I can relate to it, I was and may still be there. There has to be some way to drive around the country and give all of my friends the hugs that they need. I want to go visit Jenny Faust and tell her that she matters, and people care about here. My friend Cierra needs to know that she has unlimited potential and that her dreams, however wild can come true.
John needs a friend, someone he can count on, and I'd want to be there for him but I can't let anyone in, not to the point of where I'd feel comfortable.
I don't know what it is about being in your mid-twenties and being sad. Song writers have written songs about it, there are books and movies and art and maybe it's a self fulfilling prophecy.
But hey, at least I don't feel stressed these days, I don't feel trapped and hunted. But I also don't feel like doors are opening for me, or that I'm a person of consequence.