The New Year

We have successfully survived through the year, and have emerged in a blaze of muted glory into this fresh territory that is 2008.

I am eating a tangerine, listening to a mix of Talking Heads, Sufjan Stevens, Third Eye Blind, Kings of Convenience and Frusciante. The snow is falling outside of my 6 foot window into a sublime, perfect blanket, covering the existing three foot snowfall already staking its claim upon my family's land.

I've been in a strange mode lately. It's like I don't care about anything. I feel that. But it's not true. I care about everything. I care about music, my guitar, my dogs, my cat, my friends, my family, my house, my clothes, my beard, my writing and my ambitions. Why can't I grasp that? Where is this obstacle coming from?

Are we obligated to progress after midnight of December 31st? Is it a pre-requisite to joining the throng of billions waking up with hangovers the next morning? If it is then simply fuck it.

She said she's content. She'll never how miserable that made me. I care(d) so deeply about her but it'll never happen. O unrequited love how poisonous you are! I can never tell her.

This, state of being torn. It is beyond horrible. Religious guilt and duty. What a joke. Yet it lingers.

May god bless the widows and the fatherless and the ones without love.

Yet art brings light and life.

Darjeeling Limited gave me a strange fuel that did not extinguish and still burns. I don't know what it was about that movie, but it strengthened me. I think it's because I relate to it. I have two brothers, and I've always wondered "if we could've been friends in real life. Not as brothers, but as people." I'll never know.

So much music that heals and hardens the soul. O what a world.

I feel more comfortable posting these things here because I know it's a sure thing that few will read it. The comforts of Internet Obscurity.

Happy(?) New Year, everyone. I love you.