Happy November

Morgan Smith is dead.

All hail the new king, Morgan Smith.


Could I have put forward the idea that I find myself a changed man in less morose terms? Perhaps, but then I wouldn't have gotten your attention as effectively.

There was once a time, as the prior entries in this blog are testament to, that I found myself being a helpless little boy being thrown around in rough seas, having little to no control over how I felt about the way my life was unfolding around me. That little boy's gone. He grew up a bit. He went through a stage where how a group of other people acted controlled just about every aspect of his life.

But then that little boy said "Fuck. This. Shit. Fuck it right in the ass," and took control.

If the little boy hadn't taken a long walk off of a short pier about two weeks ago, the tone of this entry would be completely different. I'd be moping about my shortcomings and whatnot, filling the internet with the same whiny background noise it produces in excess.

But recently I've found reason to be happy again. Recently I've found people who make me feel good about who I am. People attentive to the needs and feelings of their friends. Recently, life is good again, and I feel amazing about the fact that it was my drive to cast aside negative thoughts that made it that way.

I love college again.

I can't wait to go home and see everyone again, but I'm less desperate to do so now.