Wrong day, right time.

It’s not Thursday, but here I am.

A lot has happened since we’ve last conversed:

I’ve done some a lot of writing. I’ve gained a higher appreciation for poetry than I’ve ever had before. I’d like to share some with you sometime. I sing backup in a band. I love my band. They’ve become my new family. I’ve gained a new best friend. I’ve become more open because of that. I’ve felt slightly liberated because of that. I’ve experimented with life a little more. I’ve become a better student. I got into Long Beach State. I’m now a 49er. I will be doing a little bit of traveling soon. I’m doing some job searching. I’m doing some knowledge searching. I’m doing some soul searching. I’ve surpassed a long-standing romantic hurdle. I’ve had sushi. I’ve been incredibly drunk. I’ve been incredibly sober. I’ve tried, and failed at, meditation. I’ve done more drawing. I’ve become a Coffee Bean snob. Fuck Starbucks and it’s over-processed and over-burned bean. I’ve socialized. I’ve observed. I’ve loved. I’ve hated. I’ve paid tremendous amounts of money to fix a car that’s seemingly unfixable. I’ve become proficient at quick-draws with fake guns. I’ve picked up the trombone again. I’ve been sick when I want to be. I’ve been healthy when I don’t want to be. I’ve cried in the shower. I’ve cried in public. I’ve edited an entire sixty-page thesis. I’m reading Franny and Zooey for the 5th (I think) time. I’ve had a second surgery on my arm. I have the metal plate on a necklace. I’ve had the family blowout of the century. I’ve had some bad news. I’ve had some clear moments of depression. I’ve had some time to think things over. I’ve experienced new levels of sleep deprivation. I’ve mopped a lot of floors. I’ve celebrated on a barstool. I’ve napped in my car. I’ve napped in someone else’s car. I’ve composed some emotionally confessing e-mails. I’ve lost my voice. I’ve swallowed some disgusting concoctions to gain it back. I’ve danced. I’ve fallen. I’ve continued to hate tea. I’ve eaten bananas again. I’ve become slightly obsessed with bananas. I’ve read for hours with the dead. I’ve been proud. I’ve been ashamed.

Most of all, I’ve believed, and will continue to believe, that it was all truly beautiful.

I’ve become a slightly different person.

For the better, I hope.

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2 thoughts on “Wrong day, right time.

  1. Glad to see you dusting off the old writing shoes! Love love love! I adore you and your beautiful voice, keep on singing/writing/being AWESOME!

    Love ya

    Timmy

  2. Not only have you reminded me of what it was like to enjoy the possibilities of youth, you’ve given me permission to trust my own judgement and dump Starbucks!

    When I was in Berkeley I was a great fan of Peet’s coffee. I may give that a try again if I can find it. I’m not sure it’ll be the same without the outside cafe table and the smell of eucalyptus, though ;)

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