I've been in a writing mood lately. Once when I was younger I wanted to be an author. But I think that ship has sailed. Recently I have come to the realization that I enjoy writing, it's become a release. A way for my soul to empty or at least ignore it's demons. Painting has the same affect. Been thinking about my future a little bit. What do I want to do for a career? Painter? Musician? Actor? Helicopter pilot? psychiatrist? Kilt model? maybe even a writer. the question is how do I decide?
Looking back, It's been a strange year. sometimes you become everything you used to be against. 2-4 years ago if you would have told me I was going to be in a school play, or taking a girl to Prom, or creating art, Cutting all my hair off, or even Golfing, there is no way I'd believe you. Heck if you told me that at the beginning of last school year I probably wouldn't even have believed you. when I was in junior high, I thought people who dressed up fancy and went to dances, or played golf or whatever else were stupid. Now I suppose I'm one of them. I don't think it's a bad thing though. But also some things never change.
The world needs more Gentlemen. Where have they all gone? nowadays women seem to think all men are perverted bastards. which may be true, I don't know. It's terrible. I hate to hear that. makes me wish I were a woman sometimes. certainly there have always been perverts and certainly there have always been gentlemen but it seems that the race of gentlemen is receeding. I certainly hope that I'm amongst the gentlemen. But I suppose only the ladies can be the judge of that. If not, I'm sure as hell going to change that.
Love life has disappeared. I don't even know what love is anymore. But I need to. I need to fall hopelessly in love with a nice girl. One that's hopelessly in love with me. But what if I never do? What if I never love again? where will that lead me? what will become of my life? will I simply turn into that crazy old guy down the street that everyone thinks is a witch? Die lonely?
When do Blogs come to an end? how do they finish? How do I bring about the death of this one? I don't want to. If it dies, then surely a part of me dies. All my written emotions and histories. Does anyone even read it anymore? Maybe I'll write on it my whole life. It will become my biography. When I die, that's when it will come to an end. so many questions.
I'm going to take a break now. go on some adventures. Maybe never to return. Who knows?