Finally, the past haunts me...

They say the most power of the five human senses is smell. I now know this to be true.

I just got my futon back from Rachel's mom's house tonight. After four years of sitting in her room it has adsorbed every last smell of her being. My room reeks of my past and for the first time in two years, it affected me. I miss just having Rachel in my life. I am way happier with Melissa and I have never been more sure about marrying someone in my life, but I just wish Rachel was at least a friend and not just a distant acquaintance I speak to every three or four months.

The cushion's smell is so strong that I can't ignore it. My room immediately filled with fragrant memories; not specific memories, but just general memories of walking in her house or lying next to her in her room.

I can't say this enough, I don't miss having her as a girlfriend, but as a friend.

But for the first time since we broke up, I felt myself go backwards for a moment. Since we broke up I've taken a full steam ahead approach to the relationship, trying to move on. Tonight made me look back and just admire what was.

Emotions...what cruel melodies they play on my heartstrings.

-Austin

And so it begins...

Life is about to start again. Melissa is about to start work and I am about to start school. I am on the verge of something musical and beautiful with people to match. And finally, this cloud that has been so blinding is moving onto the next stale and dormant shell it plans to possess. That was me for the last two months; a shell possessed by a blinding fog, confused about where to go or what to do. I wasn't depressed or sad, but quite the contrary: I've been extremely happy lately. However, extreme happiness and solid life direction are two completely separate things.

I have been "extremely" happy lately because Melissa finally moved here a month-and-a-half ago. It's been really really great having her with me. I have also been around my old friend Jason a lot more which has been a positive addition to my everyday life. We decided to start yet another metal/hardcore band together and it sounds really good. Graham and Isaac jumped on now and we're practicing this coming Tuesday.

As for the aforementioned "blinding fog": until yesterday, I really didn't know what was going to come of this band. And until about a week ago, I didn't know what was going to happen about school this semester. Everything was foggy (except Mel and I because that is the only thing I was 100% sure about) and it lead me into a discomfited state of mind. My future was not clear, or I could see what I hoped was the outcome, but could not see the road to get there.

But things have fallen into place and all is well in my soul. I feel happy, I'm excited, I'm motivated, and I'm determined. I think that is a good place to begin.

My plan is to watch every film on a list I'm creating right now (which I am forming and may or may not post here). It will probably have nearly 1000 films on it, but I will be watching them in chronological order - starting with a silent french (14 min) short A Trip to the Moon from 1902. My independent research will be hugely beneficial to my major, Film Studies. I have become online acquaintances with a film professor from Florida State University who is giving me tips and helping me understand certain thing in this field. I am truly blessed to have such a mentor.

Finally, I added my entire DVD collection to this blog. It is the last page element in the left side bar, at the bottom. You can't miss it. I counted them and I have 545 movies. They are all linked to their IMDb page so if you're interested in more information on some specific films, just click away. Please don't let all that time I wasted doing it be in vain. Give it a glance, haha.

4.25.09: The death of the Flop

Well, I'm having a bittersweet sort of day. It's good, but not that good, you know. I woke up at around 11:30 today, or at least that's when my alarm went off, and I got ready to go to my dad's wife's mom's memorial service. She past away. I guess I could have said step mom's mother, but that's weird to me. Anyways, all of my family, on my dad's side, were there and it was fun. But I kept thinking of all of my friends and how it would be to just not have one of them, one day. I know this sounds cliche', but I wanted to call all of my friends and tell them I love them, haha. It affected me. I kept thinking of Melissa too, and how much I love her, and wondering what life would be like without her. It's hard to think. I mean, we've had a long distance relationship for nearly two years now and it feels weird thinking that I wouldn't have her somewhere in the world. I really love her and it means a lot that she puts up with my shit all the time.

I was watching the second disc of the sixth season of Curb Your Enthusiasm. The first disc was so good. I laughed and laughed; Leon cracks me up so much. But that last disc should of made me laugh but it did quite the opposite. (WARNING! SPOILER!) When Cheryl leaves Larry, I felt so awful. I mean, Cheryl represented forgiveness in this show. No matter what stupid things Larry did, she was always there to help straighten him out, there to keep him level. But then she leaves, and for another guy nonetheless, and it broke my heart. I don't need you to tell me how ridiculous this is, it just happened though, I don't know. It brought back way to many bad memories and implanted in me the notion that the one you love may not always be there to put up with your shit, and it made me take a step back and look at my life.

When Larry is trying to get her back and is telling her that he wants to scuba dive and travel, etc. (even though he wouldn't dream of doing any of it), it reminded me of what I said to Rachel a week or so after we broke up. Then it made me think about what I say to Melissa. I remember discussing walks, and how we both love to take them, but I can only remember like, two walks we've ever taken. It made me want to change my role in this relationship; it inspired me to become what I want to be, but most importantly, what she needs in me. We're doing fine, for the record, but that last few days haven't been my favorite of our relationship. A lot of it coming from me, and I take full responsibility for it. I just can't wait for her to get here, it will be so much better. I knew after Phil left, it would be hard, but not like this. It's just difficult now. I feel defensive and on the edge. But I've made a conscious choice to let it go today. There is no point in making the distance and harder.

It's like Dumbledore in the half blood prince (WARNING! SPOILER!) when he goes for the horcrux and tells Harry that no matter what, he must force him (Dumbledore) to drink all of the liquid before them, no matter how much he begs Harry to stop. That's what I feel like right now. No matter how difficult it gets, and no matter how frustrated I get at times, or annoyed, I have to look at the end result, that what comes if I perservere is worth it all.

It's all worth it in the end.

Also, the Flop's last night is tonight, which is sad because I always look forward to it each weekend. *Puts hand to head and salutes* Oh "the flop", how I've loved thee.

Creative writing problems

Okay, so I have a problem with my creative writing paper. It might be to difficult to follow. It's all explained and my professor would easily get it, but it goes back and forth (like the movie Memento) and in the requirements of this paper it says it needs to have a "clear theme, easy to follow"...sadly, I must say memento is not easy to follow, my paper is in the same boat. So I'm thinking about pitching it to her Monday while I begin another story with a very similar idea, but easier to read. Instead of it being about flashbacks and black market organ thieves, I will make someone get buried alive. It's as simple as that. I have to give Melissa credit for this because she was telling me how terrified she is at the thought of being buried alive, and then it hit me, I could have the exact same formula and everything, but just make him buried alive instead of being held captive in a spike-less iron maiden type of entrapment device.

Buried alive with flashbacks -- or -- Held in an upright coffin like, spike-less iron maiden, waiting for faceless men to take his organs. I'll go with the buried alive, a little easier to explain, hahahaha.

I know this all sounds absurd, but my teacher and I share a similar interest in disturbing literature. So I decided to make a bizarre, outside-the-box story.

I'll probably post it on here when I'm finished.

Off to Anderson soon. Ferguson, Joel Levi, friends, the Flop... what more could you ask for.
Except Melissa with me, but I mean, you know...

-Austin

Creative Writing Project

I have a creative writing project in English due next Wednesday. I'm excited because it can be up to fifteen pages and I need fifteen pages to get my ideas across, haha. So here is my intro...

________________________________________________

"Tantrum of the Muse"
by Austin Glidden

Cream colored walls, tan frieze carpet, a beautiful, solid oak armoire, and a king size bed, disheveled by its occupants, decorated the room. Two pair of naked legs rest entwined, sunbathing from the splash of spring light that beamed through a nearby window, causing a milky glow to embody the room; its golden haze was warm and inviting. An old, slightly faded sheet covered the bodies of its owners, forming a half cotton, half polyester haven for the couple to whisper recent memories of the previous romantic evening.

Regardless of how happy Elliot was to wake up in this environment, he still felt uneasy, as if he should be somewhere; the same compelling weight that you feel when you are on vacation and you know you have forgotten something. Very perplexed, Elliot let out a howling yawn while wiping the sleep from his eyes and finished with an enormous stretch from the side of the bed. He looked over at his wife, Eva, and noticed she was still hidden from view under the old, worn sheet.

“Get up,” he said lightly, “Wake up, let’s start the day.”

Eva peeked out from under the sheet, only exposing her eyes, and searched for the clock on Elliot’s nightstand. Upon reading the time, she let out a weary, grunt-like sound, before saying, “Eleven thirty? I didn’t know I could still sleep that late.”

“Still? As if your college days weren’t only five years ago?” said Elliot with a comedic, almost surprised tone.

Eva quickly threw Elliot a playfully indignant look while simultaneously pushing the covers from her body. She stood up, at the side of the bed, and examined her petite frame in the vanity mirror atop a dresser, putting her fingers through her dark auburn hair. She measured her waist with her hands, all the while, groping at the invisible fat on her flat stomach.

“Do you think I’ll look like this in eight months, after the baby is born?”

________________________________________________

This is by no means finished. There are too many grammatical issues and plot specifics I need to work out. But don't be fooled, this is not a story about a loving couple, it's actually about black market thieves kidnapping and stealing organs from innocent people. hahaha

Feel free to comment with any feedback. Try to keep it positive and constructive as opposed to, "I hate it and you should die for writing it," please.

"Get in that Ass!"

This is one of the funniest videos I've ever seen!

Haunting Past and Security

I'm looking so forward to discussing this weekend with Melissa. I have literally spoken to her twice, for less than five minutes each time, for the last two days. So I am ready see what's been going on. I am not a jealous boyfriend by any means, but I am smart enough to know trust can only go so far before common sense needs to take over. I kept having this vision in my head of Melissa on her bed making out with her ex. I know that is stupid but I did. I would text her and I'd wait for about an hour or so before I got a reply saying she'd left her phone in the car or at home. It reminded me of when Rachel was cheating on me.
I remember calling Rachel two days before we broke up. I had to have called her twenty times throughout the day hoping to discuss out big two year anniversary weekend and the few times she answered she said she had to go. A couple of days later, we broke up and that was that.

Well, I trust Mel so much, but because of my past I kept having these flashbacks and then these awfully terrible pictures in my head and it was hard to deal with on top of my nausea and headaches (which I feel much better today, I think I was dehydrated). I have a hard time with security this time around for reasons I won't say. They're between Melissa and I, but I can assure you that they're not what you're thinking right now. She's never cheated on me, she's always been completely honest regardless of positive or negative outcome, and when she does call me during situations that make me nervous, she showers me with loving affection and assurance. It is just difficult to shake what feels so familiar.

On a good note, I'm looking forward to hearing from her today sometime, when Phil leaves, and listening to her amazing weekend. I will most likely ask her millions of inapplicable questions that she will answer with, "That's stupid, stop it. I love you." I am just excited for the reassurance, it's always a comfort to anyone in similar circumstances.

Once again, I really do trust her, and to be honest, I'm not afraid of her cheating on me, not at all (though those images in my head were disheartening). I am just afraid that her past will cloud her judgment on important decisions that not only affect her, but us in the long run.

I hate not being able to give her what he can. Sometimes I really do wonder why she chooses me. I mean, all the things I wish I could give her are shallow things that in the end don't matter (money, --- that's really it). I give her things he could never give, ever. He and I have similar interests but completely different logic. And my logic is more compatible with her well being I believe. So I have nothing to worry about. I'm sure I'll write something in a little bit in reply to this message about how stupid I am, but this is how I feel right now.

Essays, Headaches, and Evangelists

"To what depths does a man's journey into madness have to bury his convicting conscience and God given common sense before killing another man in cold blood? Can one gradually slip into insanity without personal trauma? In the case of Prince Hamlet, from William Shakespeare's "Hamlet", we see the latter question to be false. However, in the case of Montresor, from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Cask Of Amontillado", we see a deceptive protagonist pre-conceive a murder from beginning to end, without a spoken provocation. The differences between the two characters can be very large in some aspects, but are quite small in the overall comparison of both creative works. Hamlet and Montresor, though easy to contrast, are quite comparable."

This is my working introduction toe a long English paper due Monday. I have two and a half pages done and at least five and a half more to go. Luckily I've only done the introduction, Background, and summary to each story and character, and all in two and a half pages. So now the comparison begins. Not to difficult.

I had a brutal migraine last night. I went to the Flop in Anderson to see people (I needed it, last night was a lonely night) and on my way there I felt that all familiar twinge of pain above my right eye. I thought that seeing everyone would take my mind off of it, which has been known to happen, but to no avail. I was up half the night throwing up and moaning with a hand rubbing my head, attempting to soothe the pain. I woke up today to notice a rare occurrence, I could still feel it. It was really tender there and all day I've had a tender head and unsettled stomach. But all is well on the Glidden front, I am recovering. I feel pretty good. I ate two pieces of toast and drank some water. I figured I was dehydrated. I'm feeling alright and can't wait to eat a good meal.

Tonight is my uncle's girlfriend's birthday and my family are taking her out to Red Lobster. I personally love red lobster so this will be nice. Cheesy butter biscuits, awesome salad, baked potato, and popcorn shrimp...oh yeah, that's happening.

It might be a long dinner though. Marty Tharp is going to be there. He, and his family, are the band I went with to Ireland a few years ago. I played drums for them. They're somewhat celebrities in Northern Ireland so that was neat. But MArty and I don't see eye to eye on much. We have several heated debates about what constitutes as music being to loud, what you should and shoul not wear to church, whether long beards made you a terrorist or not (not exactly what it sounds like, but that basic arguement). I just want to sit on the opposite side of the table from him. He's 70+ years old and our mentalities are decades, and generations, apart.

On a good note, I'm hoping to go to Anderson and stay the night so I can go to the Mercy House tomorrow morning. I need to scrounge up some cash to get gas before I can go, but I should be able to. I'm going to introduce the new song to our potential band mates. Let's hope that goes well. Due to the headache I suffered, and still feel slightly, I can't do vocals out of fear that I'll start up the pain again.

Little [French] Girl Remix

This is impressive, and cute.

NEW SONG!

I just finished the new song I mentioned in the last post. IT IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD! I should have it up online sometime hopefully. Isaac, Graham, and I have to show it off to a couple of guys to see if they'd like to play with us and then it's done, the reincarnation of Hiroshima, Mon Amour will be complete.
Now, I haven't done the vocals yet, but it is still so good instrumental.

The new band is "Jude the Obscure" (thanks for the name Melissa...and Thomas Hardy), that is if we ever get this band on its feet. If someone in the band really had a problem with the name, I would consider changing it so everyone is happy. But all I know for sure is the music is more dynamic, heavy, melodic, passionate, Envy-esque, and up beat than HMA. There is more technicality in the instrumentation. It is carefully written and well thought out. I'm very excited to show the guys the final product. It sounds way better than the rough demos of HMA too, I think. I'll have to hear them back to back.

Anyways, I'm off to go listen to this song about seventeen more times, then finishing Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

NEW HP6 TRAILER!!!
If you are at all interested in reading Harry Potter and the half-blood prince before the film comes out, DO NOT WATCH THIS TRAILER! It might not obviously give away anything, but when reading it you realize what's coming when you've seen the trailer.

Current issues...

I feel really happy today, but I feel that this happiness is just a mask for a deeper, suppressed emotion that is struggling to be released. I don't know if it is school (homework), the non deferable loan, Melissa, or what, but I am certain there is something there. I need to purge myself of these feelings. I think I need to write some lyrics and do some vocals to the new Hiroshima-esque band the guys and I are considering. I have the song 80% finished. I'll just finish it, polish it, and scream over it. that could help alot.

I just got a text from Melissa. I immediately feel better now. She has a really hard time making a decision and, despite the fluxuations in motivation, hanging onto it as tightly as she did when she first made it. For the record, she would say his herself so I'm not talking behind her back, we've discussed this before. But anyway, she wants to move here and within the first two weeks of leaving here last time, she was full on, one hundred percent. She is moving here, but now she is really scared and stressed about it, even though there is nothing to be stressed about because everything can be planned for a smoothe move from Houston to Muncie. She is stressed about if her decision is the best one, even though logic tells her it is. But she's like me, I follow my emotions even when they are misleading. Maybe not as much as her, but I do. Anyways, her friend Phil is coming this weekend and I'm not the happiest about it, but we've talked about it and I support it. I just hope everything is better when he leaves, as opposed to the several times he's fucked things up for us. But, he is a good guy and I really do think it will be a good experience, I'm just a little nervous to see what happens come Sunday.

The Non Deferable Loan is a stupid. That's all you need to know. Approx. $165 a month, regarless of whether I'm in school or not.

Homework is killing me. I have an 8-12 page paper comparing the character Hamlet with the Character Montresor (from Edgar Allen Poe's, "the Cask of Amontillado"). Yes, I chose this topic and it has been difficult finding the 6 sources needed for this specific thesis. On top of that, I have a Math test I need to make up from a week and a half ago, and a new one next Wed. After these tihngs, I'm going pretty easy. I just hate that I went to ivy tech to raise my GPA for cheap and could potentially fail my math class. It sucks that I just learned things a little later than everyone else. It's discouraging.

I have also decided, for myself, not because of religious belief or conviction, but I am going to cut way down on the profanity. I have always felt like it sounds very unintellegent to cus, but I do it anyways because more often than not, it makes me laugh. But I want to cut back. I say cut back
because I may use it in a quote or if it is necessary for the sake of comedy. But yeah, that's that.

I am on page 535 (chapter twenty-five) in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I'll just say this: Sluhorn's memory, Sectumsempra, the origin of someone's withered hand. I'm very excited! It's all so good! Does anyone who's read them think that's cague enough?

Yeah, I think I'm going to record that song after my diurnal bedtime talks with Melissa. I think I'll try to record the song, then read the rest of the Half-Blood Prince (about one hundred pages away) so tomorrow I can focus on work!

AND! I might be doing Saxon Shore's myspace layout which is awesome seeing as how I've been a fan for years. They were the first instrumental band I ever heard. Check them out on Myspace. It's good stuff; Post Rock at it's finest.

Busy and Enthusiastic

Literally, for the last few days, I have been either writing papers, watching curb your enthusiasm, or in Anderson. Tonight is Haunted House practice again to which I am not looking that forward to and would you like to know why? It's really lame...
I have not been able to read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince for days now. I read a chapter last night for the first time this week and it was nice. I miss Hogwarts, I miss my friends Harry, Ron, and Hermione, I miss magic and the exciting new none-muggle things that happen in it. But now I'm a slave to Ivy Tech for the time being. Luckily, I turn in a paper today and have an 8-12 page paper due next Monday, but then after that I good until the end of the year (which is like 4 weeks). So I'm excited to start reading again and maybe watching movies and more curb you enthusiasm.

Also, I'm thinking about getting a calendar and calling up different people I've talked to about web design jobs and setting up dates to begin and end jobs on a calendar, for example: I will call someone and say, "Hey, we talked about doing a website, right? How would you feel about starting that in May, I could have it done in a couple of weeks?" or "Would you like a new myspace layout, I could pencil you in, in July?" You know? That should work, maybe. I hope so. It's be fun.

Anyways, I'm off to school until one, then a nap probably, then Hauted House practice, yay.

Life and death, hand in hand

"Yeah, well, most people I met thought there was something wrong with me. They didn't say that but I could tell that that was what they thought. But, you see, what I think I experienced was for the first time in my life, to know what it means to be truly alive. Now that's very frightening, because with that comes an immediate awareness of death. 'Cause they go hand in hand. You know, the kind of impulse that led to Walt Whitman, that led to Leaves of Grass, you know, that feeling of being connected to everything means to also be connected to death. And that's pretty scary. But, I really felt as if I were floating above the ground, not walking, you know, and I could do things: I'd go out to the highway and watch the lights go from red to green and think: 'How wonderful!'"

This is an excerpt from Louis Malle's, "My Dinner With Andre", a film being re-released on the Criterion Collection. I have an old copy but it is really lame, I can't wait to get the Criterion version sometime. Anyways, it's about these two real people, playing themselves (though it has been said they deny it) and a having real conversation they had before, so the legend goes. It's fascinating because Andre Gregory (John the Baptist in The last temptation of Christ) begins talking about a trip he took to teach an acting seminar in Poland. It ends up being this spiritual experience where he connects with everyone and becomes one with the earth, etc. It feels as if your reading an interesting story. He just basically talks for an hour and a half. Anyways, I was watching a ten minute clip on youtube where Gregory starts his story and it inspired me. As I listened to it, I became somewhat jealous of his journey. Not that I want to talk to trees or lead improvised parties in the middle of a forest or anything, but I just found it so fascinating that he is telling this story to an old friend/aquaintence and is totally shameless no matter how bizarre it sounds. It really meant soemthing to Gregory; it changed his life. I would love to go on a trip and experience life changing events.

The part of the story that caught my attension most was the quote above. He talks about how the closer you are to truly knowing what it means to be alive, you are that much more aware of death. It's like when people say, "You don't really know what happiness is until you experience heartache." You don't really fear death, or understand death, until you truly experience life. It's kind of true, to an extent. It made me think about what it means to be alive. Some believe life is a series of success and failures, anticipations and dissapontments, etc. But if this was true, what is Success. My definition would differ from many. My uncle John Paul's definition of success would be making significantly more money than you need, by a new car, keep up a fresh haircut, wear suits and "the best" in fashion, etc. My definition would be simply to be happy and do what you love, what you're passionate about, and love doing it. I mean, I'd love to be well off (financially speaking) some day, that way I could really help people and live whatever life I choose for myself, but that's my goal. As long as I'm always happy, whether I'm wealthy one day or not, I will be successful. Success isn't just conquering life goals and dreams, but it's contributing to the world in a way that betters you community, country, and the world. Whether that means petitioning for curbside recycling, or helping released "convicts" get jobs, or helping an old lady across the street, I feel that that is true success, doing something that really matters and doing it well.

I'm potentially starting a band with some guys (more like being succefully persuaded to resurrect the dead) and I feel that if that band changes one persons view, or makes one listener happy when they're down, we're successful. If it changes one of our lives, "our" as in band members, then we have done something successful. Success does not depend on how much money you make or what you can afford over someone else, but it is what you choose to do with you life and how it affects those who come in contact with you whether it be friends, family, or aquaintences.

And this takes me back to life and death. Should we fear death? I mean, we will inevetibly, but if we're doing what we love, or helping those in need, shouldn't that be worth dying for? I believe that being successful, under my definition of success, is truly living. Helping those in need, etc. If that means I must coem face to face with death, then bring it on. Because Life outweighs death. Death is overrated. We fear the inescapable, and we shouldn't, we should constanly be looking forward. Our heartache is just a small, unnoticed tear in the fabric of humanity. We must perservere through our personal tribulations to be strong for others; Selfless for those in need.

As I've written about several times lately, I feel like the tables have turned. It seems like everyone who was there for me in 2007, through my break up with my former fiancee, these three guys are facing a simlar hardship like I felt. I've found myself juggling them, trying to help them without dropping one, but not wanting to hand them over to someone else because I want to share my memories so they can relate to me in that way and see, through me, that they will make it through it. I told Melissa this analogy today. The analogy went:

My three friends are like three drowning men. When I am saving one, I have to do it properly or they will pull me under with them. I have to be strong and be smart so I can calm them and get them to safety. When it was me, the three of them together could pull me to safety with ease, but now, I am tugging the three myself, thus, I must be careful for my own sake.

I told Melissa this and she replied, "Don't worry, you are too boyant." That was encouraging.

If your parents made you clean off your plate as a child, hate them!

I ate way to much. It was a serious mistake. I feel tired and like I ate so much that it couldn't fit in my stomach so it's stuck somewhere between my stomach and my sternum. Oh dear, this is rough. I mean, I didn't mean to, I just ate consistent and quick and my stomach never had time to send the message to my brain that reads, in big bright neon red letters, "GLUTTONY". I can't ever remember doing this. I mean this is an experience, I'll tell ya. An experience. It's like my life is flashing before my eyes, except in these fleeting images I am just throwing up. Is that a sign that before I die I will just be throwing up a lot? That's weird, right? Death by throw up? I don't know.

I was with a friend today. He and his wife are having some problems. She kind of kicked him out and he lives with his friend temporarily. There was really no communication upon what this meant, so my friend does not know if they're on a trial separation, or just taking a small marriage break. What's the difference you ask? Well, technically, if my sources are correct, a trial separation is when you move out and live your life as if you are not married (within reason). For example, you can date other people all in the hope that you will realize whether or not you want to be with your spouse. A break is just, "Get the fuck out of here!" and then a week later, "I'm sorry, let's work it out." It has been almost a month since he got the boot but he's feeling better. Maybe I'll elaborate more in the future. All I can think of is throw up.

Isaac and I got together last night. Wrote a new song and I hope to record it tonight or tomorrow. It's really good and I'm excited to introduce it to our potential band mates.

I don't know, like I said, I can't stop thinking of a monster inside my stomach trying to break free. I'm going to go and really try to relax. This is brutal.

Relationships.

It's funny, I'll read a friend's blog and get really passionate or intrigued by a topic and have to write about it myself. Sometimes I just don't think about certain things because I am content with the topic, at the time. But I'll start reading someone's post and it will bubble up inside of me like a volcano ready to explode; I have to release the pressure of my thought overload. It just so happens that this is one of those times. Relationships... *exhausted sigh*

Relationships, whether intimate or friendly, they tend to give some individuals a sense of anxiety, while others a reason for living. I personally have never needed a lot of friends. I have always been happy with one or two really good friends that I see somewhat frequently. I have had many friends over the last twenty four years and I have never regretted one. I don't miss them and I would not want any of my current relationships to be them. I allow them to dwell in that place, in that time, years in the past, lost in the depths of my memories. I can summon them to the forefront of my mind and wipe them away. They are always there, but rarely acknowledged.

The earliest relationship I remember having was a friendship with two girls across the street. I was three years old and they were (Amanda) three and (Amber) five. I remember that Amanda was the first girl I ever kissed, I was around nine. Soon after I was kissing her and her sister, in the same room. Pretty weird right. It wasn't normal, that I can say, haha. The kissing ended a few months after it started, but the friendship lasted for ten years before I moved to my grandmother's and lost contact with them.

When I was in fourth grade, I was about ten years old, I had a best friend named Shannon Addison. He was a great kid and we used to play basketball and video games. My family liked him so much that one year he actually came on vacation with us to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. I remember hitting him and making him cry. He went and sat by himself under an awning where my mom followed to console. My dad bent down and told me, eye to eye, that I did something wrong and needed to go apologize. I did, friendship mended, end of story. We left Myrtle Beach peeling our shoulders of sun burnt skin and talking about x-men no doubt. less then a year later, we were long lost pals due to different middle schools.

During and after Shannon was Graham Watson. This kid was the most intelligent person, for his age, I had and have ever met. That being said, he was the weirdest fucking guy I have ever met, as well. I'll never forget that his room was upstairs but the basement was his play area where all of his video games, board games, etc, were. Among the games was a giant, plastic kitty litter container. In this container was the most foul smelling liquid I have ever had the dishonor of smelling. It was months and months of urine that he had been storing as a science experiment to see what would happen with pee after so much time. I could not believe it. Needless to say I contributed to the collected liquid excrement (via peeing in and pouring from a soda bottle). One day, probably a year later, he poured it on the front steps of his house and it stained the stairs. As far as I know, they're still stained to this day. I'm happy to say I still see Graham ever once in a while, but we are no longer close.

After both Graham W. and Shannon, I became friends with Riley. Riley was also extremely weird and had bizarre interests. Riley introduced me to Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy VII, and Penthouse Magazine, which I am no longer interested in, praise be to God. Riley also introduced me to, what now is, my most passionate hobby...Film. He showed me Donnie Darko, Memento, Amelie, Reservoir Dogs, and the list goes on. He taught me the basics of film, the knowledge which was and is the cornerstone of my expertise. I am proud to say he is still one of my best friends after twelve years, and I don't see him going anywhere (figuratively and geographically speaking). We only talk about once or twice a month, but I'm the first person he calls when he comes back to Muncie.

After Riley it is all a blur as far as friends go. They came and went. Michael Haskins, Wes and Clayton Davis (who are still my friends), Ty Estes (still a friend), Andrea McIntyre (I still consider her my sister even though I haven't really talked to her in what seems like years), and on and on I could go. The important thing is I do not dwell on the loss of these comrades, but I think that the time was well spent, the relationship was not a waste, and new experiences are on the horizon waiting for me to take hold of them.

This brings me to my main point. We need relationships like this. We need friends by our side, when times are good and bad. We need people we can trust and people who know us well enough to understand us and not place us under judgment. Isaac is probably the best friend I have, and even though on of us could move away from this place, I will make the best friendship I can out of it because, to me, it's worth everything I have.

For example, it's like starting a romantic relationship with (in my case) a girl. If I dwell on the fact that I could lose her at any moment, not only would the relationship never solidify, but trust would be very difficult to form. We would eventually wither apart. But for me, in particular, I put my whole being in a relationship. I put my heart on the line, no matter the risk. I feel as though I owe it to that person to sacrifice myself to show they can trust me. I have been through the pain of heartbreak. I know that it hurts when (again, in my case) the girl leaves, but I have to pick up where I left off and live life, hoping that God will send someone else to me in which I can plant my scarred and wounded heart on the table again, at risk of being obliterated into detritus. We must remember that heartache and disappointment are apart of life, just like happiness and euphoria are as well, but it is worth the risk of sorrow to find someone (friend or lover) who will be there for the rest of your life.

I started writing this post a few days ago but did not know how to end it, so I saved it as a draft and left it. Now I know what I want to say... "Go get 'em tiger." That's the best advise anyone is going to get. If you struggle with relationships, remember that they will come and go. We say, "There are alot of fish in the sea," but when we hear it, it is the last thing we want to hear. Reflecting on that time now, I see that it is true. There are billions of people on the Earth, and hundreds of millions in America. I should be able to find a friends, or a lover, or an acquaintance, or an opponent, or someone to hate, or someone to care for me, etc. You can find anything. But don't try to hard. Everyday we are met with potential friends, it's just how we choose to react to that situation.

So, pray and they will come. It has happened for me, I know many who can say the same. So trust me, pray.