Ya know, every time i write on here it seems that it's a depressing entry. i know it's true. i just started too. most times, i start and don't ever finish it because i feel so... frustrated and i can't figure out what I'm more upset about. and as i sit and think of how lonely i am and how empty i am...i realize that I'm not always lonely and empty. actually I'm usually pretty content.there are things that could be better. i still don't have really any friends down here besides my sister. i don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything - I'm not growing as a musician (at least i don't think so). but...I'm not that bad off.
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One thing that i really miss in my new life is friends. i can't seem to meet people who are real. i want people that i can talk with and get a little deep. i wanna be open. i think the lack of that is one of my biggest frustrations. i got some of that a couple weekends ago when i was at sara's college. i can always find that when i'm with her and whoever she surrounds herself with. once in a while i stumble across it with other people. adam will always be my number one. i just don't like floating around and being superficial.
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i suppose there are always good things going on in my life. it's so much easier to focus on the bad and what disappoints me. there's a lot of that. i feel like i gotta do something or i'm gonna die. i'm tired of waiting in line and folding. i'm afraid that i won't make it; that my dreams will turn out to be just that. there's so much i could be doing, so much i could be learning and i'm not. i feel like i'm wasting time and i don't enjoy it.
i think i'm ready for something more. maybe i haven't made it to the river yet, perhaps i'm jumping the gun. i just know that i'm not gonna fold. i gotta take a chance.
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Sources of Joy:
* long underwear on cold days - makes biking bearable.
* Coconut Records.
* Benjamin Gibbard.
* the fact that Nada Surf's new album comes out next Tuesday.
* the sound of my fingers on a guitar.
* Seeing John Vanderslice in March.
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i ripped my pants today. blast.
