"If times a song, I wont wait for its reprise 
I am done wishing farewells and goodbyes 
I wont let this place overshadow my birthright 
I wont wait another eon "

2011 goals (WIP)

Get a new job.
Get car insured.
Get an amp.
Stretch ears to 00ga.
Get eyebrow, tragus, venom, and numerous helix piercings.
Get first tattoo.
Don't spend any money. Wait. Damn it.
Never cut my hair.
Get a bloody grip.
Calgary, now.

I've been binging again.

Nothing except metal. The more insane, the better. Been toying with avant-garde metal. It's mostly crazy.

Enjoying my fall into madness.

You wouldn't like it.

Let's rewind time.

I'd let it play out exactly as before, I just want one more night.

Heh.

I was free writing. It got a bit too free for you folk.

I'd be disappointed too.

Seventeen was a good year.
Eighteen was decent. Passable. I'm ok with eighteen.
Nineteen. Sixteen days in...

Let's go back to seventeen.

Your assumptions are cute.

I find myself pondering the most bizarre things at four thirty in the morning. I suspect that's a common trend among people. Sitting in darkness, quiet, the strangest of things will spring to mind. This morning, I found myself seriously considering the idea of tea. 

Tea. What the heck. What kind of thing is that to stop and think about. I digress. 

I'm infatuated with the concept of tea. The health of it, the image that it conveys, even the smell of it. I adore holding a hot cup of tea and losing myself in the aroma of it. I enjoy buying tea, knowing that it's not the norm, even as I'm aware that it isn't anything special. I love preparing tea. Using tea bags, or using other tea like accoutrements. Every so often I immerse myself in a culture that isn't my own, so I also tend to love just how British tea is. 

I love tea. Until I put it in my mouth. 

That's when I remember that it's hot water flavored with leaves. It usually takes me a week or two before I'm ready to lose myself in it's glorious concept again.

Hi, my name is Matt, and I've failed you all.

Haiti

Well, it's that time.

I'm off on an adventure. Pictures and stories to follow upon my return.

Two weeks in Haiti.

LATER.

I suppose ten posts was a lofty goal for a lazy bum such as myself.

Oh well.

I don't mind. You shouldn't either.

I stopped feeling guilty. Oh, about a month ago.

How about that?

OH CRAP I'M BEHIND.

I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO IMPART AT THIS TIME.

I'M EXCITED FOR HAITI.

CAPS LOCK IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL.

Roll over, wake up, get dressed, go to work, burn myself, go home, plug in, unplug, undress, crawl under the covers, roll over, sleep forever.

sleep forever

I'm frustrated.

For a silly reason.

November 11th is a day that I consider remarkably important. I shouldn't need to go into the details.

I'm in Haiti for November 11th this year. I'll be there helping make life livable for people down there. Yet, I'm still upset that I won't be here to honour the people who fought and died to make life livable at home.

There's nothing I can do about it, aside from taking my moment of silence in Haiti.

Rats.

Haha! Freedom is now mine.

The world is my oyster.

Hi, hello.

Life's hard enough without worrying about the things you have no control over.

Wiser men than I have already made this point, and as such, I figure it should be taken more seriously.

However, saying something is far easier than putting said thing into action.

Nevertheless, we're four days or so into feeling like a human again. So I'm on top of the world.

I burnt my knuckle on the fry lamp at work. It doesn't hurt, but it does look funny.

Twenty nine days until I leave for Haiti. Aw yeah.

I'm going to post at least ten times this month.

Boom. Goaled.

Today was better. I'm turning around a bit. For no particular reason. I just wish this could have happened a month ago. I could have avoided a lot of damage.

However. My sob story is highly uninteresting.

Not that I have anything else to talk about. Rats.

I'm afraid of life after Haiti. I don't know what I'm going to do. Not really. Life is scary, guys. I sort of hate it. I miss the simplicity of what I used to have. I wish I'd known what I know now. Screw you, hindsight.

I'm over you tonight, but I can't speak for tomorrow.

I made a mistake, as young people are prone to do.

And now it feels like I'm going to fly apart. Spiraling out of control. I can't think straight. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to be near anything.

I want to sleep forever.

And then longer still.

It astonishes me how the most amazing of things can cause me such distress.

I'm going to go fall asleep in my regrets.

2120

I don't like this layout anymore than the last one. I was just tired of looking at a cheery blog.

2317

I'm collecting words.

That I'm not a fan of. Words that I've written together into pictures I'm not fond of.

I have to keep them somewhere though. So I have them tucked away.

You can't see them.

You have to wait for the stories I'm proud of.

Too clever.

Arachnophobia

I don't particularly understand the common human distaste for arachnids. Nor do I pretend to.

I do, however, prescribe to it.

Not that I want to, of course. I don't really care about spiders. They shouldn't bother me, as they can't cause me any real harm. In British Columbia, particularly in Kamloops, the most dangerous spider is the Black Widow. Which is poisonous, sure, but hardly a concern for an adult. Their bite may cause some swelling, and if you react poorly, you may develop some flu-like symptoms. Yet, nothing life threatening, for sure. Barely even troublesome.

So. When a wolf spider wanders into my bedroom, I should treat it as any other bug. Squash it with my finger, and then put it in the garbage. No problem. Yet, I freak out. Destroy it with a box, and am now incredibly uncomfortable in my room.

Spiders are stupid.

I want to hit things.

I want to lash out and tear things apart.

I can't see the beauty.

I can't see the light.

I can't see the future, nor the past.

I'm lost, and I can't find my way.

I'm desperate and foolish.

I'm tired. I'm so tired.

I'm sick. Sick of the darkness.

Sick of the darkness.

My mouth burns with fire.

As my mind burns with fury.

It's inching closer. Slowly closer.

I know it's coming, but it's so far away.

My body has lost it's strength.

My mind has lost it's tenacity.

I struggle, constantly.

I fear.

I fear.

I fear.

I loathe.

And I fear.

And I'm so tired.

Tomato explosion all over the place!

Skillet. Ohhhh, Skillet.

Actually, that does tie in, shut up and listen.

So that might have been the most tiring weekend of my entire life. It all began on Friday. Do you wish to hear more? I hope so, I should be in bed, but am blogging instead. Appreciate me.

Friday. I worked 3-11. Closed Walmart. It was a gigantic gong show and I hated my life the entire time. I got home, and went about my post work business. You know. Poopin'. Not really. I prepped myself for the next day. Umm. Saturday. I got my clothes laid out, and put my stuff in a bag. Why would I do such a preposterous thing you ask? Rudely I might add. I was headed to Surrey that very Saturday. To go to Rock the River Fraser Valley. Awesome, I know. Anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself. So I set my stuff out, and then climbed into bed for approximately six hours of sleep. Lots of sleep. I woke up at seven thirty or so. Showered, straightened my hair (bad idea.) and hopped into my clothing. I went upstairs to get myself all ready for my day. Now. It was around eight thirty, and I was already tired. Partially due to my late night/ busy day previous/ lack of things to do. I got picked up by my amigo, Kurt, and we headed off into the glow of morning. We stopped at the church to load the cars with other folk and then zoomed off to Merritt for some breakfast. Tim Hortons lunch sandwiches are way better than their stupid breakfast. Burn. I went there. So I grabbed my breakfast and loaded into Curt's car. What. A change in K/Curt? Yes. Yes, that happened. Plugging in some rad tunes, we continued on our journey. We got to Surrey at some time I don't remember. We picked up some lunch prior to heading over to the festival grounds. Curt and I made a daring choice and proceeded to partake of Taco Bell's new promotion, the Boxmaster. It was a true delight. I wish I could write here that we mastered the Boxmaster, but it was not so. Shameful, I'm aware. During this time, I also snagged a sweet pink poncho to keep the rain off me. I forgot it in Surrey, sad face. We went over to the festival grounds and got situated. We listened to many bands, and I enjoyed about half of the music. The rest of it was awful. That's ok. I don't really mind, since my ticket was only ten bucks. Don't complain when your ticket is only ten bucks. Umm. Starfield, Downhere, and Skillet were brilliant. Skillet in particular performed a dazzling show that has effectively forced me to start listening to them again. So that's been happening a lot as of late. However. The weekend hasn't ended yet, so let's get back to that. Heading back to Kamloops I moved over to a third car, and joined some other friends. The trip back was a combination of much energy, zero energy and a lot of singing. Interspersed throughout each other. It was pretty sweet actually. We got home around two thirty, and I being the clever bean that I am, stayed up until around three, three thirty. Brilliant, especially since I had to get up the next morning to help lead worship. So. Three/four hours of sleep later, I wake up and head to the church once more. Practice went well enough, and the set went pretty swell for such short notice. I may or may not have nodded off during one of the songs for a moment. It may or may not have been one of the most terrifying moments of my life. After church I headed home with Andrew and we partook of pizza and each other's company. Good times were had. I was dying at this time from my lack of sleep, but my day had only just begun. You see, I worked this last Sunday. I picked up a shift because I'm a kind soul, and was at my job for seven hours that day. 3-10. I seriously thought I was going to die. I had to walk home from work, and I forgot shoes. It was not smiles times, my friends. The best part, is that this should've been the end of it all. The rules of the universe should say that after nonsense such as that, I should be permitted at least twelve hours to rest as I see fit. Of course not. I worked at eight on Monday morning. I got home at eleven, went to bed sometime around one, and was up at six. Monday, was the worst day, work wise, I've had in months. After work, I headed over to a shindig at Kyley's place and had a riot. That may be partially due to my sleep deprived brain finding everything amusing in some way, at least when it's not trying to kill me by nodding off during dangerous activities. Like walking. I got home from that shebang and wanted to shower more than my life is worth. However, I was running into walls and was beginning to hallucinate a little. So instead, I grabbed a towel, threw it on my pillow and slept like an inebriated gopher. Which I like to pretend is really quite well. I woke up Tuesday morning, showered and headed to work once more. It was not a bad day in the slightest, and I think I owe it entirely to the sleep.

So. The lesson from all these shenanigans?

Keep busy when you're sleep deprived, or you'll fall over.

Ha, you thought I'd learned a lesson. Pft.

No.

So, that was my first real concert experience, and quite an entertaining weekend. Now I must head back to that bed thing that I have. Rest for tomorrow, lest I have another terrible day. Heaven forbid, right?

Toodles, folks!

Kebob.

First ever concert experience tomorrow. Psyched.

Expect babble about it when I return. Or not. Entirely possible that I won't. I'm bad that way.

YAY.

Excepts from "The Hollow Men", T.S. Eliot (Also some interpretation. Sue me.)

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

this is the way the world ends this is the way the world endsthisisthewaytheworldends

not with a bang but a whimper

title

"if you meet someone who happens to be like you, even in the simplest ways, always give that person a chance to be someone in your life. regardless of any circumstances. forget fear of losing them in the future, and forget your fear of other's prejudices.

we are all strange creatures on a planet of 6.7 billion people, and us meeting others that resemble us is such a beautiful thing.

treating it as anything less than a miracle would be stupid."

-Montana Cumming

Adaptations of sight

A vesper of light,
Swirling through air, cascading,
Pulchritudinous

So much post-hardcore and punk lately.

Also, good camping trip.

My allergies are amazing. So brutal. My nose feels like fire.

I'm in an absolutely wretched mood. Maybe I'll write later. Soon. Hopefully.

Mustache club

You should join it. You know you want to.

That is all.

Black is back.

Maybe my blog should follow suit.

I doubt that I will find the time.

Not to mention that this night grows shorter with each passing second.

Black is no fun during the day.

So I might be fine.

Seriously?

That happened.

I give up.

Woops

That was not supposed to be there at all.

I don't like having cold feet.

I wonder if you remember a post that I posted many moons ago. About all of my completely rational fears. Bug sized cars and what not.

Tonight, betwixt normal thoughts, I seem to be fretting again.

Except this time they don't seem to be nearly as amusing. This eve, I seem to be pondering the things I actually do fear.

This isn't to say that my true fears aren't preposterous too, they're just more... threatening to me. I don't know, don't make me explain this portion further, I'm just trying to entertain you a little.

There is a little more prefix to go through before you get to the fear part. Sit tight.

I have found that lots of people, my friends, and people I really don't know but stalk via the internet, enjoy letting others know the things that make them happy. In theory, very entertaining, especially when the things that make you happy are silly or are easy to relate to. I don't doubt that one day very shortly I will sit down and type out many of the things that I find bring me some small deal of pleasure in this world. I just keep freaking out that the list is going to be tiny and I'm going to realize that nothing makes me happy and that I actually hate life. Then I'm going to have to start wearing dark makeup and writing even more awful poetry.

Good segue, hey?

So yeah, I worry about suddenly realizing that I don't like anything. Hasn't happened yet.

I worry consistently about bothering other people with my problems. Like, if I'm telling someone about how I'm upset about this thing or the other, that I'm simply boring them with my drivel. I very recently was talking to a dear friend about things that were causing me a great deal of distress at the time. Early morning, you know who you are. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I couldn't help but spend the entire conversation worrying that I was driving them mad with my pathetic problems. This is rather the ironic fear, as I am definitely one of those people who is willing to listen to anyones troubles, no matter who, about no matter what.

I worry that I'm going to alienate someone I care for with some off hand comment. The wrong thing said at the wrong time. I don't think I've managed to do this yet, but I do believe that's why it's a fear, yeah?

I worry that I'm never going to find something that I am legitimately good at.

Balding. Explains itself, thank you.

I worry about being single forever, or even worse, jumping into a foolish relationship simply out of desperation.

I worry that I'm going to be stuck here forever. Acting out the motions of life, working, eating, and sleeping. What a dreadful thing, that we have such a magnificent world, and yet people are unwilling to explore it.

A few of many.

Complex creatures we are, so capable of fear. It's good to remember how we are equally capable of hope, and through hope, action, and through action, life. Regardless of the fears that try to cripple us.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I wish I could draw.

I would fill my room with drawings of David Tennant and Christopher Eccleston. As their incarnations of The Doctor, of course.

I saw those looks. I'm no creep.

They would be flying over worlds in The TARDIS, and battling Daleks, and Cybermen. Billie Piper can come along, I like her too, oh and John Barrowman, and Freema Agyeman.

Noel Clarke too, if he stays quiet. Jeez.

Yes. All Doctor Who characters. Get over it. I can do what I wish with my imaginary talents.

In all seriousness though. If I could draw. I would devote a great deal of time to decorating my room with pictures of these people. And you people. You folk reading this. Hey, it's a nice sentiment! Don't look at me like that.

Yeah, my obsessive side is starting to show. I get a huge kick out of Doctor Who. British accents, quirky characters, the concept of free travel. Fighting the forces of evil. It's a great thing to me. I might be a bit more into it than is normal, but I've never claimed to be so inclined.

It evens me out, makes me a bit happier. Makes me dream again.

I think that's what The Doctor is all about. Dreams, and making them real.

Restless

-May I offer a proposition here and say that according to science, time is relative. Now, according to creationism, time follows God's movements. Two mutually compatible, verifiable laws of the universe. As such, six thousands years can be either an arbitrary label invented by power hungry charlatans, or a valid number based of the length of God's day, and Man's year.-


I stumbled across a quote rather similar to this a couple of week ago. I rewrote it as best as I could remember it. The relativity of time has always fascinated me. The very concept of time is brilliant. 


I thought some of you might find this interesting.

I don't particularly care for April Fools.

I realized tonight, that I seem to have a tendency to complain a great deal about the hand that I have been dealt. I tend to complain to myself a great deal more than I do to others, and I hope that this statement rings true to everyone. If I actually am just the most annoying person ever, please, tell me in a tactful fashion. Haha, no one wants to get their feelings hurt.

In any case, what I'm trying to get at is that I seem to complain, and not act. Whereas, it makes far more sense to either shut up and get around to doing the things that would make my life better, or instead to shut up and just deal with it. Either of these options would probably make me feel significantly better during my late night shenanigans. I tend to sit in front of my computer and mope about what I could be doing better with my life. Of course, I do this whilst I stare blankly at the computer screen. When I could be sleeping. Preparing for the next day, wherein I could do some of the things that I wish that I did.

Idiot.

Haha, maybe not quite. Unmotivated, maybe. Even so, I seem to have figured this out a little bit, and as a result, I'm going to do my best in the next little while to get my act together. I have a few outstanding tasks that need to be completed before my life can move forward in a meaningful fashion. I have no doubts that I can get them done within the week if I set my mind to it. However, this could quite possibly mean an end to my late night activities. As I can't seem to be a productive member of society when I sleep all day. Another revelation brought about seemingly by a lack of sleep.

This entire blog post thus far has been written in a rapid fire fashion, which hopefully explains the amount of rambling that I am doing. I seem to be finding it to be calming. Listening to some soft happy music also seems to be calming me. I plan on talking a walk as soon as I am done with this post. Yeah, it's five in the morning. I don't really mind. I'm really hoping the birds are already out in force. That would make me a happy boy. Oh, so happy.

I've written out a small list of things that I desire. All of them cost more money than I have immediate access too. So I'm going to have to do some budgeting and some saving. Buy some things with gift money instead of work money which is going towards other important ventures. Maybe, anyways. Haha, I'm the worst with money, and I know it quite well. We'll all see, I suppose. If I suddenly have a plethora of new things, you will know that I have failed epicly in my quest to find some sort of control in my life. Hehe.

So, this may very well be the longest blog post I've written in months. That's rather pleasing to me. Although it might set something silly. Like a precedent.

Don't expect long posts from me. Ever.

This is a treat from my person to your person. Personal eyes. Of course.

Oh, hey. You know that tendency I have to end my longer posts with some sort of music, or song? Well, that's not happening this time. You know what? I don't think I'm even going to fini

I have a terrible confession.

I collect weird looking food.

I have deformed candies littered around my room in little containers.

Succumb to the sound of a heart in overdrive.

My face itches.

I have drawn a distinct correlation between M&M's and delicious.

Munchkin should be a thing done far more often.

My basement is usable now, I don't know what to do with myself.

Headphones deliver greater sound quality. Surprise!

I'm growing pretty weary of my phone.

My desire to learn acoustic guitar is getting stronger.

My complete adoration of the bass guitar is in direct opposition however.

I need to eat more fruit. Bring me bananas.

I'm getting sick, I must quash this illness with rage. Posthaste.

30 Rock is quite possibly one of the best shows on television.

The temptation to sleep is not strong enough. Need to build a device to make desire stronger.

I need more decorations for my room, and the basement in general.

I need a new job. One that pays significantly better. Preferably one that will teach me new things, and hopefully related to computers, or biotechnology.

I really ought to get a new piercing. I'm thinking something innocuous. Tragus maybe. Eyebrow area. Not sure.

The sanitizer at work smells like something from Haiti. It makes it hard to concentrate.

I want to learn a new skill. Computer programming, maybe. NERDY.

Lists bring me pleasure. Normal people pleasure. You freak.

Obligatory: incumbent or compulsory

So says dictionary.com.

That's what I feel about this particular blog post, as it relates to V-Day. Today.

I wish it was just any other day. Instead, it's a day where the I will inevitably dwell on the fact that I am single. Single. Not a fan of the word.

There are all sorts of things I could go into. The concepts of love. Whether or not I feel ready for love. Etc.

However, it's unnecessary, as at the end of the day, I will still be in a poor mood as a result of the day.

Hope you lucky folk do enjoy the day.

untitled

-We watched the sun rise,

Hues of fire and life danced,

Across our little world,

We were together at last,

Forevermore lay before us,

Yet here we lay,

Ensorcelled in the majesty of it all,

Enraptured by the caress of the wind,

Together we press forward,

Under the constructs of cloud,

The stars creep above us,

With indescribable wonder,

We quietly await the new dawn,

Because silence is required,

Before music can be found,

And I don't want to miss the birds,-

I'm cool too, guys!

Wikipedia

Matthew is the standard English for the Hebrew Bible name Μαθθαιος, a Koine Greek transliteration of the Aramaic diminutive מתי (Mattay, Maty). From Latin Matthæus, the English spelling Matthew comes directly from the French Matthieu (earlier Matheu). Ultimately derived from the Hebrew name מתתיהו (Matatyahu, Mattathias) or מתיתיהו (Matityahu, Mattithiah), Matthew means "gift of YHWH". The Hebrew name is also spelled מתניהו (Matanyahu, Mattaniah). Related names include נתניהו (Netanyahu, Nethaniah), and with swapped syllables יהונתן (Yehonatan, Jonathan).

A common name in the West, it is traditionally spelled "Matthew" in English, but sometimes "Mathew", and even as the Muslim name Mathyu. Matt is the most common hypocoristic form of the name in English. "Matthew" can also be a middle name, and the English surnames Matthew, Matthews, Mathis, Mathewson, and Mattison are among many family names derived from it.
The name "Matthew" has historically been distinguished from the related but less common (in English) name Matthias, and is clearly distinguished in most other European languages.

Matthew the Evangelist

Matthew, Apostle, and once a tax collector, composed the Gospel of Christ.

Urban Dictionary

Matt:

An extremely good looking male, otherwise known as a Sexy Beast. Throughout history, Matts have been known to be an exceptional specimen of the human male. The 'Matt' are often popular due to their social adeptness.

Girl 1: Hey, did you see that new movie 300? It was kick ass.
Girl 2: Of course! It was like a movie of 300 half-naked Matts!

This is what called dedication!

Headache. Check.

Burning eyes. Check.

Tired as a tired guy. Check.

Senseless desire to blog for beautiful people. Check.

Anyways.

iPad. Hahaha! Done.

Well, I've grown too tired to finish this. Too bad. Maybe later.

I tried, I promise.

Nocturnal Notions

On the rare occasion, particular to night.

I fret about ludicrous happenings.

Such as awakening and having forgotten all of my friends faces.

Or forgetting how to walk whilst in the middle of a downtown expedition.

If all the cars on the road suddenly transformed into car sized bugs.

Various other things as well.

Makes me want to crawl into my bed and never get out.

Crawling into my bed and never finding my way out. That's a good one too.

"We sure set a lot of dogs on fire, Sufjan.

I know! It was more than I had planned, actually."

For God so loved the world...

I think, occasionally, we forget.

We forget all sorts of things.

We forget what it was like to be a kid.

We forget what it was like to be cared for.

We forget what it is like to be the new person.

We forget what it is like to be needed.

We forget what it is like to be challenged.

We forget what it is like to be loved.

We forget what it is like to feel safe.

We forget what it is like to be all sorts of things.

It's very comforting to me, knowing that I can forget these things from time to time.

To know that a man. Who lived and walked with this world. Suffered so that we could forget things like this.

So that we could forget, and be reassured.

I've been doing a great deal of thinking about this. Why I'm a Christian. Why I would make the sacrifices that I do.

A friend of mine summed it up rather nicely, and I agree with his personal understanding.

His is different than mine, as is to be expected. This is my summary.

I have had personal, viable experience with God. I have seen his guiding hand in my life, and the lives around me. Doing only good things. I have experienced Jesus Christ, directly. In a way that many people can't understand. I believe in a loving Father, who will care for me, and guide me through all my days here on this earth.

Skepticism is to be expected in a world governed by knowledge, as I believe ours is currently. Knowledge is the new God. Knowledge being directly related to science. It is bad science to believe something that you can in no way explain or show evidence for. Which makes my faith seem, by way of relation, bad.

But, I suppose you could say that faith is both good science, and bad science. I can not show you physical proof of God's existence, no more than I can hand to you a box of gravity. So it seems to be bad science; however, science is all about observation. Good science is making observation. I understand that there is more to it than that, but please, bear with me. I have observed God's presence in this world. In many different ways. A simple example being my mother's life. I would ask you to ask me if you care to know more about that story.

I am by all means a "science" person. I have on numerous occasions asked myself why I would be so foolish as to believe in something completely intangible and completely lacking in evidence. It's because God has shown himself to me.

Sometimes I forget these things, that I have related to you. Yet, as I said. I have been reassured, by the presence of an almighty God.

I figured a blog post went well with the theme of publicly announcing my faith.

I'm getting baptized.

Charmed, a trillion trite apologies

I was lying. No apologies.

Well, welcome to my new home. I'm pretty happy with it. I might spruce it up with some pictures and some words and what not.

This is it, my 2010 home.

Want to hear some plans? Good. Another list!

-Participate in NaBloPoMo

-Write more in general

-Use a higher standard of vocabulary

-Have a segment. TILT would be an inspiration. But it would have to be different. (Hear that? You're an inspiration.)

-I would love to drag someone else into this glorious world of self expression and deep thought. Original material. (I'm getting sarcastic here.) I'm talking about blogs!

Done!

For real life though? Some plans for the year? Well, the fourteenth of January isn't too late to start. Lists!

-Get better at bass

-Go back to school

-Go to bible school instead

-Learn how to play the piano

-Read the Bible through and through

-Start Judo again

-Start working out

-Get mad abs

That seems good to me. I know they won't all happen, but hopefully some of them. That's what goals are for, yeah?

Well, that's all this foolish brain can sputter out right now.

Trepidatious Changes

Within the week, this blog will be made anew.

It's a new year. I suppose that's reason enough. I haven't quite decided on a motif yet.

We'll see.

I've been rather partial to this one, but change is always good. I just need a good name.

I'll think of something. I'm good at that.