On Letting Go

Portugal. The Man

I don't know where i'd even begin at this point.

I get to go home tomorrow. After 4 months since my last return to Oklahoma, it feels like a light-year between me and my memories. Who knows, maybe the galaxies are in between my thoughts as much as the sky and beyond. I get to be filled with the only genuine joy, appreciation, friendships, and love that i've ever known in my whole life. Believe me when I tell you, there's no better feeling than knowing your at where you're ok with being. Thats life. The jokes, the pranks, frogs, water bottles, rolled up jean pants in that southern weather. What more to want from a world so unloving than love? I'm ready to be ok with being ok.

There are over 200 alien planets out there.

I never do enjoy plane rides though. I always get one of the the three options; The window seat = Not wanting to get up and go to the bathroom because the other people in the row have to get up too, and then you just feel like a nuisance. The walkway seat = Having to get up for the person wanting to go to the bathroom. Or, as Miley Cyrus would so agree, the best of both world; The middle seat = Not wanting to go to the bathroom AND still having to get up. Fail, right?

I want to explain how excited I am about seeing my friends again. I literally almost vomited from getting the nerves in my stomach all worked up that they began to ladder themselves into my throat burning with vengeance as I sucked them back down. That excited.

The Last Supper took three years to paint, and Leonardo's lazy ass didn't even finish.

I just realized how particular I am about being considered. By this I mean that people give me the once over and have some subconscious rundown of who I am and what i'm about. Therefore, i've been so talented as to train my brain into doing the same. Like second nature of the beast that is a human. But I don't judge, I imagine. My concept very different from what I think others do, but I don't really know. And that makes me anxious for knowledge. I want to understand. The fact that I don't know makes my brain do its own thing and judging their thoughts. so maybe it is judging..

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Housewives