Yesterday was my birthday.  I decided to go on a nice long walk and a write a reflective passage.  Here it is:

January 12th, 2010.  I am 22 years old to the day, and fuck.  I have done some things, seen some things, learned some things.  I have shared love, taken love, given love, forgiven love, and threw away love…off to a good start I guess.  I’ve fallen in love with girls on the street, girls in dreams, girls in magazines, friends, lovers, bitches, sweethearts, and the most fun of them all: girls who are emotionally, spiritually, and logistically unavailable.  I have also fallen in love with music.  Fuck music…sometimes.  I imagine my life without music: I wouldn’t be me, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing sometimes.  But I suppose it’s not such a bad thing after all.  Music keeps me sane and insane, it’s never balancing.  That’s a job reserved for yours truly.  I’ve been doing ok so far, but recently a series of unpleasant realizations have reared their fugly, mocking heads at me.  I hope I can make peace with all of them in time.  I’m sure that I will someday.  Maybe in one year from now I’ll read this and laugh at what a sad bastard I was a year ago.  Happy Birthday.  Yours truly, Me