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It'll be work related, not quite so much introspection. Somebody might be  interested though.

neversaydie isn't quite ready to say die yet, either.

I've seen them together, the four of them. See, the problem is, is that I don't _have_ brothers or sisters of my own, right? So how should I know how they feel? It's like snips and snails and puppy dog tails. I can tell you about those things, and i'm sure you know why. But on the subject of having to share a bunkbed? Nope. I'm glad I didn't have to deal with someone looking just like me, except with all the good parts mooshed around.

So realistically, I shouldn't know one thing about them as a group. But just maybe I can look at them during recess and tell you why today's a sunny day.  No matter how much mud ends up in your walkman, those april showers aren't going to just dissapear. The smart one always ends up getting left out because they're sick of her explaining everything... and then, logically, all she does is explain to mom why they left her home. Outside, each of them in their snow suits, someone always ends up cryiing during a snowball fight, and nothing seems to quiet any of them down save the next snowfall. The next snowfall, which by all means, should do the exact opposite.


Maybe it doesn't hurt to prepare for unlikely events.

*

Creativity is a commodity for me, unfortunately. I think, rather than forcing myself to "blog", I should be waiting until I feel like writing for myself again. This doesn't even seem to be an option though, because as a term assignment I need to keep a journal. So anything I do commit to written word is going to be squandered away on pointless busywork. At least I haven't set any standards; my teacher has no expectations of me yet. How shameful; what an attitude.

Furthermore i find myself more and more uncomfortable writing like this because I don't like people reading it. I have this perpetual sense of uncertainty when i start writing because i can't help but consider how it's going to be interpreted. This doesn't feel like an outlet. It feels like i'm writing postcards to myself. My intent with this wasn't to create a forum from which I could use to hotlink my personal thoughts. I'm too introverted for that. I guess I just hadn't considered the possibility of having an audience that isn't anonymous. Publishing my entries to only certain individuals isn't an option either, that isn't my style.

I'm not quitting with never say die though. Hasty decisions usually end up becoming regrets. So... consider this a (hopefully temporary) hiatus, while I make up my mind regarding the journal's direction.

I'm reading some new Palahniuk, and after that some Brett Easton Ellis... so maybe, if i've got time, i'll write some reviews up when I finish each of them. That way I won't have completely disappeared.

I'm not sure why I even feel any responsibility towards updating, but I do. So who knows, maybe I'll again try to come up with something nice for people to read that relates to something more than books after all. Just, please, don't ask me about it, or about this post, or anything. It isn't something I feel like explaining anymore than i have with this entry.

so.. uh... bbl!

It was Lesley's birthday yesterday! Everyone wish her a happy 21! dangerousangels.mindsay.com

Aside from here being pretty ill most of the night, things went really well. We had friends over and in general just had a good time. I really appreciate the friendships I have; I'm really not sure what I'd do without them. I consider myself very lucky for all of the individuals I count as friends and I hope I never take them for granted, because I'm sure there are many people who aren't as fortunate as I am, to be blessed with such great friends.

Awh. Short, sweet, and sincere.

That's all!

Define me by the cyber persona neversaydie and i'll appear right infront of your eyes. Digital ones and zeroes  aligning in a decidedly nonrandom pattern, translated into text.  I wish anonymity could be so easily achieved in other contexts.

I haven't had time to write here lately, so i've been blogging daily in my head it seems. Most of it gets forgotten, and none of it is nearly as organized as it should be, but it seems like all I have time for.

But it isn't just that. I also worry about what i'm going to write, when I do sit down here. So much has been happening, things I should have some meaningful response for. But where is my soliloquy? The last thing I wanted to use this journal for was an open forum to whine and complain; I'm not one of those people. At the same time though, coincidence seems to be doing its best to arrange as many unfortunate events in a row as it can.

The seasons are changing and I can't help but see things in cool blues and grays instead of saturated warmth and pastels. How emo. Just look at the way i'm writing, that says it all I guess. My mood, my posture, my routine walkthroughs are as representative of myself as my diction... but still, at the same time I'm confident things will arrange themselves nicely at some point or another. That's one area where confidence rarely--if ever--falters. It doesn't make me less blah, though.

Books are always a fun way for me to disappear for just a little while, when I feel like I need to. I read Microserfs by Douglas Coupland this week. All i can say is... Sorry, man. He's been on my "I cant understand why everyone likes them so much!" list, along with Bright Eyes, the movie Snatch, etcetera. For some reason I'm more vocal about disliking things like these when they come up in conversation than I am about when something I really enjoy comes up. Eventually it just gets to the point where I have to dislike them on general principle. But i'm taking back everything I've said about Coupland in the past. As a matter of fact I'd even try to make up for the comments somehow, if I could. I just wouldn't recommend anyone starting out with Life After God. It left a pretty bad taste in my mouth. But Microserfs... Aie. It's about some silicon valley geeks in the mid 90's that overcome their no-life-introvert lifestyles by realizing those same traits just so happen to breed metaphysical thoughts that let them discover each other a much higher level. Alright, i tripped over my tongue typing that. But I dont know how else to describe it. If that sounds even in the slightest bit appealing, read it. I haven't read a book I could relate to that much in a really, really long time.

The book horizon is looking good, too! I bought Life of Pi, and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. The upside down dog on the cover has caught my attention countless times lately, and after flipping through it only to see flowcharts, equations, grids, maps, and diagrams, how could I resist? Ray Kurzweil has a new book coming out soon, and so does Kevin Mitnick. I feel adventurous just reading his stuff.

So I can just read a lot. Wouldn't that be nice? Except that I can't. I really cant, because i have a whole lot of responsibility which i'm not about to back out on. But i'm squeezing in as much time as I can. I even listened to most of Hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy narrated by Adams himself the other night while I was working on an animation. Half way through Chapter 22.

I think story is where i'd like to end up at the end of all this. We'll see what happens, but  I think that's whats callin me lately. Storyboarding, story concept art, writing for film, story illustration... something. I should know this already, shouldn't I? I wish I did.

What've I been writing for the last half an hour? I've got to go be productive. Time for those ones to go back to being zeroes. Fade to black.