First of all...

i've never been any good at keeping any sort of record of any experience i may have had. i've never kept a diary, confided in a journal, blogged... i hate that fucking word. blog blog blog. it sounds so fucking stupid. like shitting your pants.

and so, here we are. i think the thing that is important for someone like me to realize is that regardless of whatever notions i have of keeping an account of myself, or some depiction of what i think/feel/whatever, there is ultimately no such thing as "correct". it does not have to be linear. it does not have to be painfully accurate in detail. it doesn't have to be real. it doesn't have to be anything at all. it simply is my own expression.

being 27 and having never done this seems a little daunting albeit necessary. there's been a lot going on upstairs - just as there has always been. although the major underlying difference being when i was young, i was invincible. there was no time or need for reflection or introspection because i was right. always. about everything. and even if i knew in my heart i was wrong, it would have been a rare thing to ever hear me admit it. oh, how i long for simpler times... i feel compelled to write. i've been feeling extraordinarily compelled to write for some time now, because sometimes it seems as though i tend to be having a harder and harder time sorting everything out. i feel mentally cluttered and emotionally stunted and stifled. in short: sometimes, i just cannot fucking deal. i said it...

i had an amazingly wonderful conversation with Rosie 2 days ago. God, i really miss her. we spoke for nearly 2 hours and there aren't enough words in the world to describe how enlightening and enriching it was. my heart was warm and my mind was fluid. i felt a comforting familiarity as our souls spoke to each other about our fears, hopes, and dreams. it was assuring to be encouraged in my new-found goals and aspirations - not patronized; encouraged. at times i wonder if we may be each others confidant because we are able to speak so freely and candidly, and not only just communicate effectively, but to really understand where the other is coming from and why. that is not to say we always agree, because we don't. yet even in those instances, there is still something fascinatingly reciprocal about it. in a strange way it seems distance allows for closeness. i revere her wisdom and cherish her insight. and perhaps most of all, i appreciate her realism. she may just be the only person that i feel truly understands me enough that when she offers advice relating to my life, i listen. i like to believe that i offer her a place to breathe, to vent, and expel as well, but perhaps while i tend to view her as something more stable and solid than myself, i allow for her a more relaxed presence. i'm Dharma, she's Greg. although it really fucking pisses me off when she imagines i'm "subconsciously attacking" her, just because i may happen to be a bit more 'morally and/or socially liberal' i suppose. sometimes i do wonder if she resents being engaged... i can't be sure if she's either at odds with it, or if she's just extremely protective of it. i mean, she never talks about the guy. ever. and when i ask, or try to coax some kind of response, she always assumes i've got something snide but an utterance away. it's odd too that really, she's the only girl that i can talk to about other girls. such an objective counsel in that regard, yet very patronized when my curiosity wanders to genuinely wanting to know about so-called domestic life. it's probably because i say things like "so-called" before something as considerable as the sanctity of actual commitment. at any rate, we had a wonderful, overdue, and much needed conversation for the first time in months and i do hope we'll get to see each other again sooner than later.