"i had to teach myself to see"

this post brought to you by a whole lot of mush.
consider yourself warned.

i don't think it makes any sense.
and i don't know if i'm misquoting.

today, Light and I are celebrating two years worth of whatever it is we're
doing. and the language is full of cheesy words for it, but i can't seem
to pick any one of them right now that even begins to say what i want it to
say.

this time next week, i'll be on the other side of the country, seeing
someplace i've never seen before, and getting to spend the longest time i've
spent with my little brothers since i left my parents house, a little more
than six years ago, and they even bought me the ticket to enable me to do
so.

these men are my family. my glorious, awkward, dork-filled family.
light's family asks after me, and i honestly believe they like me now, and i
sent an elvis cookbook to media and his girlfriend and mech laughs at at
least half of the links i send him.

and this is what i need to remember, this is what i need to use as a
talisman, on all those nights when i'm wondering why i can't find anyone to
eat what i cook, or i'm feeling too fat, too nervous, too old or too damaged
to be invited anywhere. For every thing that could possibly be uncertain
can't hold a candle to the things i am certain about, and it's all in the
angle that i'm looking at it from. there will never be a point where i
won't be able to find some aspect of my life that looks like defeat, and i
need to take my own melancholy with at least a grain of salt.

were i to grow old with only this, and my cats and my books, i should count
myself gifted beyond compare.

and Richard Shindell's song "Spring" makes me tear up a little right now.


"winter's just a curtain / spring will take the bow"

"i had to teach myself to see"

this post brought to you by a whole lot of mush.
consider yourself warned.

i don't think it makes any sense.
and i don't know if i'm misquoting.

today, Light and I are celebrating two years worth of whatever it is we're
doing. and the language is full of cheesy words for it, but i can't seem
to pick any one of them right now that even begins to say what i want it to
say.

this time next week, i'll be on the other side of the country, seeing
someplace i've never seen before, and getting to spend the longest time i've
spent with my little brothers since i left my parents house, a little more
than six years ago, and they even bought me the ticket to enable me to do
so.

these men are my family. my glorious, awkward, dork-filled family.
light's family asks after me, and i honestly believe they like me now, and i
sent an elvis cookbook to media and his girlfriend and mech laughs at at
least half of the links i send him.

and this is what i need to remember, this is what i need to use as a
talisman, on all those nights when i'm wondering why i can't find anyone to
eat what i cook, or i'm feeling too fat, too nervous, too old or too damaged
to be invited anywhere. For every thing that could possibly be uncertain
can't hold a candle to the things i am certain about, and it's all in the
angle that i'm looking at it from. there will never be a point where i
won't be able to find some aspect of my life that looks like defeat, and i
need to take my own melancholy with at least a grain of salt.

were i to grow old with only this, and my cats and my books, i should count
myself gifted beyond compare.

and Richard Shindell's song "Spring" makes me tear up a little right now.


"winter's just a curtain / spring will take the bow"