What?

When I first thought about having an online journal, I was totally against it. I still have reservations, for the most part. I was asked why by a person on my friends list. My answer to her is the same reason I'm writing this. Once I start to write I usually don't stop. Of the posts I have made so far, you only see a little of what I've written. I've written and deleted more than I care to share. I've redone THIS post a half-dozen times already. So yeah, I write too much and share too much and love too much and hate too much... I have to have an outlet though.

I HAD an outlet, writing a novel, but lost my harddrive in an excrutiatingly painfull way. The odor of burnt plastic and aluminum shielding will forever haunt me. It's my own fault for not backing up regularly. I'm inherently lazy, but I'm working on it. I've decided on not starting over on the book for awhile. A lot of what I had been writing isn't really valid in my life now, and to try and recreate the feelings I was putting to the page would probably do more harm than good. The ends don't always justify the means. Plus, I'm in a good place right now, being able to laugh and really feel instead of the bitterness and caustic cynicism that were the driving forces behind what I was writing. The best phrase I can think of to describe where I was coming from is "You want some water for your dehydrated ego. Well drink slow because I'm feeling shallow".

As of now, I can sum up where I'm at with "It just is, and it doesn't need to be anything else. Everything falls into place while it's falling apart". Even chaos has structure when percieved from the right angle. Whoever said 'the only constant is change' deserves a gold star. Or a kick in the head. Pithy smartass. I'm not even going to try to explain what this post means, or why it's up here. It just is.