boshington to waston MEGALOPOLIS

Is there really anything you're looking to read that i have written, because if so, you should tell me. i have no new news, no conclusions drawn, no drama no worries no news. the days are flying by and i'm participating in them and so are a few other people. its kinda like vacation i guess, or maybe just the last 2 days. i've been taking a break. from taking a break. i don't know if there's anything else though, so why try to find it? ugh, ugh, forcing out blog entries when really i just want to be reading your blog entries, and i mean not to be cryptic but rather provide a space where you can see your own damned meaning seeing as how thus far i have found next to nothing. feeling close to devin risley a lot lately. don't know what it means but i feel more and more like him and less and less like anything else.

i've been sitting around inventing dialogues with friends that i should or could or would have if the chance to have them arrived but mostly just thinking about my place in other people's lives that might not be as fulfilling as their's in mine, or mine in mine. trying not to call out for attention but more to sink into obscurity. wondering if this is the tendency that uncle melvin feels every few years when he goes into reclusive hermitage until his family (my family) digs him out into our presence and i wonder if he hates us for it or loves us for it or just kinda goes with the flow, just kind of enjoying the ride. buttercup thinks i write like devin but i think we write like al burian or maybe we write like we used to talk to eachother. i have to go get vegetables. . .

sometimes i will end up putting all of my insecurities out in the open for everyone to see, even when i don't really think its all that appropriate. sometimes i think that a blog is not the proper medium for this also, but sometimes i forget and write these long entries that get edited down a few hours later when i come to my senses.

"who's skateboard is this" asks an unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. the newly arrived visitor intimidates me already and i'm sure i'll mumble out a hello that i then criticize myself for, for hours after. i do like hearing the response of the housemates letting me know i'm "a guy who's staying here who's friends with jesse and raven", confirming my forgettability.

all in all i am doing really really good, sorry to leave you with the impression that that was not the case. it is, i am loving california and my friends here and my life in general. a while ago cease told me to "stop being so god damned dramatic"