High-res
Yup. It’s gonna be one of those days.
(via cruc1fy-me)
- Reblogged from 69116946911694
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High-res
Yup. It’s gonna be one of those days.
(via cruc1fy-me)
“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear which is inherent in the human condition.”
– Graham Greene
Yesterday was the 130th anniversary of Alan Alexander Milne’s beloved book of poetry, When We Were Very Young. ‘Happiness’, ‘Independence’ and ‘Lines and Squares’ are my favorites.
Yesterday, I also had a raging head cold. It’s gone this morning though, so this is my ode to keeping dry and warm from here on in.
Okay, totally random. But my shipping heart exploded all over again…
More Tiva goodness this week plus the Delena kiss. Last week there was that omg Tiva scene and then possibly epic Dair in the next two weeks.
Let me just say: I die.
Got an email yesterday informing me that my old blogging service was going to be discontinued. Thing is, I’d forgotten I’d even had that blog.
Of course, I couldn’t just pull the plug. Had to go read all those old entries first and, boy, there were a lot! This was back in the day when livejournal was what blogging was all about (at least in SiliVal and the Bay Area where I’m from), Blogger had just been acquired by Google the year before, and I was taking that year off college to go traveling. Needed to get out of dodge and have adventures. And so I did.
This excerpt from a post dated Jan 28, 2004 gives you a tiny indication of where I was at:
Went our separate ways from the crowd and got a late dinner. Afterwards, bought a couple of six-packs of the local brew and took advantage of the al fresco setting by engaging passers-by in conversation. Eventually, this couple from down south sat with us and offered us a smoke. No better way to chill out after having had a near perfect day of sun, beach, surf, blue skies, live music, awesome food and balmy, tropical weather.
My boy got drunk after 2 blunts and 14 beers and eventually rolled off the side of his chair the further into the night (well, early morning) we got. The rest of us smoked some more and talked about ecology (I was in the company of tree-huggers — very nice people) and art.
My old blog was like a time capsule of my year off. An unexpected twist.
Of course, the irony is these days I am addicted to microblogging like most everyone else. So much so that writing this post reminiscing about how back in the day I was used to churning out many text-heavy, largely experiential posts with startling regularity almost feels foreign. When did expression become so brief?