Apparently it's been 8 years

...since I last signed in to this website.

I came here to just put some s**t on the internet instead of just keeping it inside. I feel a disconnect with the world around me and yet keep shutting off, and shutting down, to protect my loneliness from escaping. If I were a better writer, I could just put some spaces and off set some of these words and this would be art. Instead, it's a man just rambling in a dark room at 2am on a weekday.

I guess somethings don't change, even after everything else begins to feel so brand new. You still do that thing that you don't like and sometimes you feel that way you wish you didn't. Come so far yet your bad s**t still remains tucked down into the crevices of your personality so that no matter how far you go, you still keep a bit with you. Sometimes it feels like it will always be this way. And maybe it will. Only the fitful night's rest and the weak winter sun will see what you become tomorrow and the days after that. Life moves so quickly you can't even catch the frames, moving so smoothly from week to month to 8 years. In the dogged pursuit of progress, it seems like only the big stuff changes. The firmament of our crappy personalities somehow persists, an old dirt floor that we build all of our dreams upon.