"Do you suppose she's a wildflower?"

I can handle people not liking me. And I can handle people being mad at me. But I can not handle feeling forgotten. I think being forgotten is my biggest fear. If someone can forget me it means I haven't made any sort of impact on their life. It means they don't need me. Or don't want me. It's not a good feeling.
Same thing goes for being replaced and ignored.

But now that I've stepped off my soap box, let's get down to business.

It's 7 'o' clock here. Amidst a pathetic thunderstorm, I've turned on the television only to be greeted by lovely tornado warnings.

I've never liked T.V.'s.

The apartment is strangely silent and though I wasn't sure I liked it for the first few minutes I'm positive its exactly what I've needed. The chaos that comes with the people I've met here is insanely overwhelming. I miss the sound of the ocean. I miss the sirens that scream down Kuhio. I miss the pop music blaring from the 10th floor of the Ohia. And I really miss the obnoxious, belligerent, chain smoking friends I left on December 19th, 2007. It's sad to think I can remember the last days I saw any of them who mattered to me he 16th, the 17th, and the 19th. Its even more sad to think of the people I didn't really get to see before I left. I don't get attached to people like this.

"I'm sure one day you will."

Yes, you were right, but fuck you all the same.

I can't wait to get back.

I am having fun here though! I mean, it's hard not to. I'm constantly surrounded by amazing people. I love my job. And theres plenty here to keep me busy. It's just not Hawaii. The girls aren't the same. The boys aren't the same. The atmosphere is no where near the same. I need some aloha.

"Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

It's some ungodly hour, once again. Everyone in the house (other than me) is alseep, once again. And I'm lost inside a mess of my thoughts, once again.

Ugh.

I don't even know what I came here to write. I'm kind of just letting my brain and fingers go on some wild goose chase. I suppose they could be looking for the literary equivalent of the promise land. Or perhaps they'll embark on some pathetic voyage and find some random peice of land to call their own (only to find its really not).

I'll stop nagging on Christians and Columbus now.

On to even less important, but more fascinating things. Like what happens to us after we die. My brother and I are (kind of) talking about it and I can't help but wonder do we really just die? I mean, it's what I've always thought. Sure I romanticized about Heaven and Hell, but really. How insane does that sound? Why would we be put on the Earth just to live to prove ourselves to someone we don't even know to be real, only to die and hopefully get an eternity of happiness in return? Something is not right about that to me. Its too...human of a desire. That's why I think we just die. I also think that its stupid of us to bury people in caskets. It would be much more sensible to just bury a hole and throw someone in there. Give them back to the Earth, you know?

Eh.

I don't know. Now I sound like some raving heretic (which in all actuality, I very well could be one). But hey. Revolutions don't come from people not questioning things. Right?
Exactly.

Okay. Well, enough of this talk. I think I'm needed elsewhere. And I'm afraid if I keep going I might start ranting on how utterly pointless existing is. Then I run the risk of sounding suicidal (which I am not). I could never be suicidal. It's stupid. People rushing into death like that. Its selfish and just, I couldn't do it. This is a tangent I don't want to go speeding off on.

Maybe some other time when my head is a little clearer.

"Begin at the begining and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

Easy enough, right?

Wrong.

I am just like you. Or perhaps I'm not.
I was concieved in the heat of a less then perfect moment; an accidental semi-permanent reminder of the carelessness of young love. I have enough internal organs performing at sufficient rates to keep me breathing and functioning at a livable pace. I don't act like I appreciate this natural phenomenon call life: putting toxin after toxin inside my body, doing life risking things like walking across the street when the red hand says otherwise and not wearing sun-screen.

Despite what my horrible unappreciative ways or life might say about me, I really love life. Maybe not the specific life I live, but most certainly the lives others live. I find myself vicariously living through all types of people living all types of lives, no matter how wrong or ammoral they may be. Thats where I got my idea for this blog. Sure, it took someone close to me to actually motivate me to actually creating it, but I've had the idea for quite a while. You see, when I walk around from day to day, I watch people like kids these days watch Spongebob and make mental notes of things that catch my attention. Now that I have this blog, I don't have to rely on my mental notes. I can share stories about mannerisms and things that fascinate me. In other words, this blog is not going to be about me (for the most part at least). I'm dedicating it to the random, insignificant, usually unnoticeable, virtually meaningless things I love to notice.