The Flip Side of Sunrise

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As a freshman in high school, we read A Separate Peace. One of the few lessons I learned from that book is that separate is spelled with one E and two A’s. Pretty sure everyone in the class fucked that one up on the essay despite it being open book (yeah, I know…). Nobody got higher than a B+.

It’s been one of those days. Sliced my finger on a can top. First time ever. Growing up, I was always told that they’re so sharp, but it never happened. I’m trying to clean the kitchen tonight, and oops. Maybe it’ll leave a cool scar. I could use a few more scars… I’m a glutton for pain.

My buddy Dan and I have decided to start training together. Which shall be tough, given that we are on opposite sides of the planet. To that end, a training blog. Neither of us are very good at maintaining fitness currently, so we’re hoping this will help and be funny along the way.

I don’t have much to say, but I really want to at least say something. Guster comes up on wednesday, and it can’t get here soon enough.

I keep on turning the situations around in my head. What have I done wrong? Should I be doing what I’m doing now? Where do I go from here?

It’s a strange thing to have all these I questions. I lost another piece of me, and now it’s as though… I don’t have to find myself all over again, and I don’t have to learn how to make myself happy again, but I need to find the kind of friendships that I’ve had throughout the years. It’s odd, they come one at a time, these people I can trust with anything. And when they’re gone, when there’s no one to talk to… I realize that I can only live on my own without anyone else for only a short time before the pain sinks in.  I’m always planning for tomorrow… maybe that’s why I hurt so much when things gloriously blow up in my face (or slowly fizzle and fade away into a scar)… I see a future and it’s a future that’ll never exist and it tears me to pieces.

When I was 18, I once left a girl at the airport gate and never looked back. I still have no idea if that was the right thing to do.

You can try to say you’ve changed. You can say it, you can believe it, but the simple fact of the matter is that you haven’t.

I thought a gushing of words would spew forth. I haven’t written in forever. But I’m still afraid that my words are, I guess, being twisted by my mind to hurt someone. Or that they are too self-reflective. After all, it’s probably boring to hear about someone else. Especially me. At least, that’s the worry.

If I’m not careful, life will pass me by. I need to create something, to have something to my name. I need…