as I look back at my earlier bushy tailed and bright eyed entries I am a little jealous. jealous that my problems were not too embarrassing to share back then. being an emo kid in your twenties seemed kind of cool but being close to 34, alone and depressed doesn't really make you want to write about it for the whole world to read. at some point I stepped over the line of "I feel you man" to an awkward sort of pity that doesn't feel good for anyone involved. I may have reached the point of needing a real support group so that what I say is a little more private...

Still, I do miss the connection and support we shared, which I guess is why i'm writing now. what we had was not just a shallow internet novelty. it was real and substantial and beautiful in a way. its beautiful that all those vivid emotions, deep thoughts, and aspirations did not pass through the night sky with no one watching. it makes me think of that quote from "into the wild": "happiness only real when shared". I think you could say the same thing about beauty.

8:40 p.m. - 2015-04-09