these posts are getting a little too frequent.

to keep me occupied outside of work while i combat another spell of writer's block, i'm fixing up one of dani's old ipods that she had lying around. the parts will cost me a little less than $50 but for 40gb of portable music? hell, it beats the space on my ipod touch, which i'll probably sell off (i get these impulses to extract things from my life and replace them with new things, or at least things that did not previously exist in my life. like like sophomore year with the buying a wii, then trading the wii for an xbox 360.

these things make me feel somewhat better for a bit, but i'm having a hard time figuring out just what i'm compensating for. well i have a few ideas.

i need some sort of musical viagara. i'm having a hard time finishing the things i start. i'm not really motivated to work on it most of the time.

i need my muse. or something.

i've entered into a complicated living situation. and everything's going so well now. but she's going to be gone for a few weeks and while that's not really a big deal, it's hard when you've just started to adjust to sharing a bed again.

i sometimes get this feeling that i'm getting too attached too soon, but things have moved so fast over the past month--she's not always vocal about her feelings and i'm just too shy/insecure to ask. i feel like i need constant reassurance, but i know i don't. i've found that ever since i moved out, i've got some trust issues to say the least.

all in all, i'd say i'm feeling better and better though, but damn am i already missing that girl.

we had a moment and we lost the moment.

I'm moving to Wicker Park/Bucktown in three weeks.

I just recently got Todd Rundgren's "Something/Anything?" album and I'm awestruck.

maybe i'm being silly, but why doesn't columbia, a predominantly commuter school, have a housing board, where listings for apartments, lofts, etc. can be found?

I can't say that I was a big proponent of Midlake when I first heard them, but I totally stand behind "The Trials of Van Occupanther" even though it came out like two years ago.

I'm in this constant flux of having a great frame of mind to thinking really negatively about where I'm at. I can never find a consistent balance. When I convince myself that I've got nothing to worry about, all of this shit that brings me down-it builds up in the back of my head until the opportune moment, and then I'm reminded of things. Sure, I don't have it bad, but I'm not making things better like they could be. I just dwell. It's a constant battle between wanting to let people in, but pushing them away. Back and forth, back and forth. My personality's really inconsistent.

Somebody go through the motions with me. Let me know I'm not isolated; justify these thoughts, these urges, these recessions into negativity. Sure, two years ago things were fucked up, but there was some connection there. Now, I don't know. My friends are friends, and good people. I just feel like I need something deeper, something I can run to. A crutch, a light, a muse.

I'm being over-dramatic. Thanks, Jameson.

I'm in this constant flux of having a great frame of mind to thinking really negatively about where I'm at. I can never find a consistent balance. When I convince myself that I've got nothing to worry about, all of this shit that brings me down-it builds up in the back of my head until the opportune moment, and then I'm reminded of things. Sure, I don't have it bad, but I'm not making things better like they could be. I just dwell. It's a constant battle between wanting to let people in, but pushing them away. Back and forth, back and forth. My personality's really inconsistent.

Somebody go through the motions with me. Let me know I'm not isolated; justify these thoughts, these urges, these recessions into negativity. Sure, two years ago things were fucked up, but there was some connection there. Now, I don't know. My friends are friends, and good people. I just feel like I need something deeper, something I can run to. A crutch, a light, a muse.

I'm being over-dramatic. Thanks, Jameson.

Michael Johns was robbed, robbed!