I'm sitting here.

Burning my photos from the last four months onto a CD.

Sorting through whatever chunks of webcomics I haven't seen yet - all drawn by people far more skilled than I can hope to be.

Sipping a Cinnamon Coke I made using cinammon oil instead of syrup, which worked about as well as you can use an A-bomb to clean your teeth (of course you CAN, they'll just be in bits, somewhere near Uraguay).

Chasing information about books whose writers I'll never be able to walk in the shadow of, let alone rival.

Listening to Cowboy Bebop music by people I'll never be able to play with, because I'm just not good enough, not even to sing.

Wondering about my future, full of a string of tests, exams, and obstacles for me to challenge, and I've only taken a nibble of that crumbling cookie so far.

Wondering about my college career, and what it means to start off as an honors student, and if I'm going to have to make an effort for the first time in my life.

Wondering about my professional career, which is so far away I don't even know what I want to do yet.

Wondering about my hobbies, and if I'll ever fool someone into believing my voice is versatile enough to pay me to do things, or even include me in projects.

Holding a fencing foil that's bent - for the utter lack of any word that could correctly summarize the true depth of it's warped, convoluted, and above all psychotic bendiness - to fuck, from the petty victories of the past.

Feeling the seconds of my life tick away while I sit alone as thunder rumbles outside, quietly reminding me of my mortality, and that nothing I do will ever achieve true permanence.

Lost in a sea of thoughts and emotions, standing on the cliff's edge of the happy plateau of Childhood, ready to leap over the edge and plunge two thousand miles into the Nivelheim of Adult Life.

Angsting like it's 1999.

Considering curry dinner.

Wanting dessert.

Lonely.

And yet, in the middle of this hole of time, this singularity from which not even talent or imagination can escape to flicker on the universe, surrounded by the fact that I am essentially alone in the universe, set apart from everyone else by the petty material concerns of distance or a hundred thousand small religions that make me think I'm better than everyone else (or at least gave it all a bit more thought than they did)...

...I feel pretty damn good.

~Corwin The Olive

YOU'LL ALWAYS BE SO MUCH TO ME
(and there's no reply...)