Yeah, yeah.

I realize I have already posted a blog just a few hours ago, but I'm just not in control of the intervals at which I must type something out. As I've said multiple times to multiple people, it's cathartic. Suppression of expression is how I dealt with everything for most of my life. I think that's why I've always been so unsure of myself. I am still unsure now, but at least I can work through things. It's just much more tolerable this way.

I've started organizing all of my favorites. Bookmarks, if you will. I know that sounds it is dorky, but from doing this I realized something. I realized what my interests are. I know that sounds like something really elementary. I mean, every survey of ourselves (Myspace, school, interviews, profiles) asks that question: What are your interests? And we should all easily answer this, no? And I thought I had a very good idea, since I am me and all. I'm sure this sounds crazy, but it wasn't until I looked at all of the websites and things that I made note of that there were clearcut patterns of what truly made me tick. Shouldn't I know this already? I don't think I'm very self aware is what it is. And blogging and compiling favorites apparently is what builds that self awareness for me.

Oh, poop. (I realized after typing that, how appropriate it was) I was supposed to clean the bathroom today per father's orders.

There's just something so delightfully vulgar in PBF comics.



All that is playing in my head right now is "One of us" by Joan Osbourne. You think you don't know that song, but wait until I belt out the chorus for you.

"What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home"

Wait there's more.

"No one's calling on the phone. Except for the poem maybe in Rome."

It's something like that. I don't know what she's talking about. God's on my speed dial.