I am addicted to self expression and I will never not refer to myself as a boy.

I also cut my thumbnails too short once again. This will never end.

In lieu of writing I have been trying to do a lot more thinking recently. I suppose I am still trying, on the almost eve of my 26th year, to figure myself out to the best of my ability. I have come to the realization that the boy in me has yet to shed his youthful skin and tiptoe into adulthood. I was sitting on my xbox 360 the other day, eating cookies and thinking about my upcoming x-men tattoo (see), when I think it really hit me. And unlike other times when I self analyze this assessment stuck. I don’t know if it’s my ability to trust people ‘til the death, my inability to see the future more than 5 steps ahead of me, or my deep belief in the idea of wonder that keeps the kid in me alive… or maybe it’s a combination of all of those things. I just don’t feel like I’m growing up. I don’t feel the age even though I know I’m older. Instead it feels like I’m jumping rocks in a river; just as delighted to take flight as I am to find the ground again.

I have decided that 2009 should be about friendship. There are people an arm’s reach away from me that I’ve lost and that have lost me. And I hate it when that happens. I hate it when we both forget. And then it turns into the “I miss you” game. It is so simple and then it is so hard. I see the echo of my best friendships in everything I do. When I walk down a certain street or listen to a certain song. I can feel all of these relationships swirling around me. I can feel myself running through the rain on a Saturday afternoon, or entangling myself in someone whose scent wafts my way. I really think that is one of the worst parts of life. The losses that aren’t HUGE… the ones that just seem to happen and make little bits of your world fade away. And then I say things like “I want…” and “I miss…” and “I love…” and that only makes it worse; its little pin-prick reminders of the pieces of the people that we all used to be.

Sometimes it’s a wonder that everyone I know hasn’t shattered completely; shut down from constantly breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. Hah; this all seems so sad and yet I know it to be true. I feel like fragments of myself all of the time. Like people rarely ever get to see me, they just get an ever-chipping facet. I think that is why I cling to my idea of a childlike mentality. I just don’t want to give up on the possibility that things will once again gel. Maybe maybe maybe. I just don’t want to miss people anymore! I don’t want to feel like I have all of these open connections searching for an end. I don’t want to think of things I know I would enjoy doing with someone I lost my spark with. It makes the bleak seem that much more desolate. I want to feel like we are constantly connecting and combusting. I want to reignite whatever I need to reignite and realize the togetherness that I am missing.
That I always miss.
It is always missing.
Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe.