mine

august 20, 2006
1:33am

the weird thing about these things sometimes is that it is awkward at best. what exactly can i say? i’m not sure. that’s why it is awkward at best. i’m not sure what to say yet i have this desire to write. I get in these moods sometimes but i don’t really know how to explain them but just let you endure this torture as you read through mindless scribbles of my handwriting . . .

ha ha

i guess sometimes an awkward silence might be better . . .

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august 20, 2006
3am

where exactly do these ramblings end? or should i be asking when?

i no longer have a concept of time. night and day no longer holds much bearing in my concept of time. Alaska has changed that.

idle time can be the mind’s best friend or worst enemy. and one cannot really control the extent of travel one’s thoughts make.

past. present. future.

not much use in dwelling in the past. it’s done and over with. some with regrets. with amazement. and those . . . . "sighs"

sometimes i wonder where i had gone wrong. am i to be held responsible for the stupidity of other people? or for the realization that i had put up with such stupidity, triviality, and immaturity? i guess it puts things into perspective sometimes. i ask myself why i can get so affected sometimes. you can’t help it. because no matter how you think it or how you try to repress it, it actually happened and wasn’t just some bador weird memory, dream, or concoction of my overly active (at times) imagination.

and it will always just lead to one question: "why?"

one thing i’ve always learned: there never really is a definite answer.

not that i’m actually looking for an answer. just a rational form of one. one that my brain can recognize as some form of answer. one that can take the form and quench my mind, for the time being (until it goes stale and i go through the cycle all over again).

present.

i guess nothing shakes up the past more than when you’re treading on shaky ground. loose ends. then again, i should realize that nothing is as concrete as i would want it to be.

here i am trying to connect the past with the future in what is known as the present. a dashed line between a solid line and an invisible line… (or is it lines)

future.

i am burdened by nothing yet everything.. grasping. reaching. . . for sometihng that isn’t quite tangible. . . . yet.

mayceee: time traveler extraordinaire.

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