Greetings, Universe.

I think that one of the worst things you can do is try to imagine how you from ten years ago would think of you know. It just seems like everyone makes so much progress in that period of time, but eventually they feel like they’re on the verge of collapsing right before a significant life-altering experience. Being reflective and thinking about you from ten years ago is like erasing what was on the whiteboard and starting fresh. You’re not that person anymore and you’re much better off now, even if that means ridding yourself of the mindsets that still linger ten years after they originate.

That being said, I’m still going to keep my Pokemon cards.

I always hate cleaning my room.. I never throw anything out and there are layers of permajunk everywhere. Today I came across some postcards written by a butterfly I raised for a school project in seventh grade. See, seventh grade science students were required to raise a caterpillar into a butterfly while recording observations about its growth. I was really quite sad when I had to release my butterfly - who came to be known as “Cappy 2”, short for “Caterpillar 2”, seeing as I killed my first one, but that’s not important - at a nearby nature reserve. My dad sensed this, so he got his friends and relatives to write me postcards under the name “Cappy 2”, as if my old butterfly was still keeping in contact with me.

Cards came in from Seattle, Florida, Wisconsin, Canada.. some places more than once. Cappy 2 had kept busy with meeting new butterfly friends, going bowling in just about every city he visited, and attending Bruce Springsteen concerts.

Inevitably, the postcards stopped arriving in the mail, and I only really understand now how much I relied on them, despite me knowing that they were obviously not written by my old butterfly. I know that Cappy 2 died fairly soon after I released him, but I felt like his life had really ended when the cards stopped coming in. As ridiculous as it sounds, I legitimately feel like I lost a really good friend.

All of a sudden, I don’t want to go to college, but the cycle has to begin again eventually.

..once I found out that the new Scott Pilgrim book won’t hit bookstores in my city until August third! I’m dying here.

And I’ve decided that I’m most interested in films because of the characters; not necessarily the acting performances but just the characters themselves. I kind of feel like they’re giving me something to strive for, because so many have traits that I want to replicate. As much as I like analyzing them, I really don’t want to look at movies as art mediums, and I don’t want my studies of cinema at college to suck all the fun out of watching them. It will be easier once I start watching movies that scale across the entire quality spectrum; for every “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, there needs to be an “I Love You, Beth Cooper”.

But yeah anyways if I don’t read Scott Pilgrim soon I’m seriously going to die from lack of awesome.

Coming Soon:

An organized collection of my thoughts that may or may not be interesting to read!

Love, Me

Thank you Futurama for making me cry like a baby.

Let’s destroy every public education building in the world. I say this knowing full well that, when my high school’s administration gets wind of this, I will be expelled and will have to wait another year to get my diploma, which I need in order to attend another higher education institution.. my head hurts. Is my plan working or is all hope lost? I don’t need a bunch of under-qualified yuppies to tell me that math is important and that it takes a lot of shampoo to clean the oil off of a sea-dwelling animal’s body. Oddly enough, I’ve picked that up from television. If that isn’t a sign of the apocalypse, I’m not sure what is.

2006-2010

Cellular Device, Pocket Filler, and Friend.

While your electronic structure may crumble, the foundation on which our memories were built will last a lifetime.

You will be missed.