will somebody please get this walking carpet out of my way?

It's time for the periodic it's-late-and-I'm-feeling-pseudo-philisophical self analysis blog. Just a heads up.

I am still as awkward as ever. I'm trying to square with that, having decided that it's really just not going to change.

I am possibly even more insecure than I am awkward. Insecure, and still at times slightly full of myself.

Music is good. I am in love with it. For different, better reasons than before, I think.

I'm fairly certain God exists. I'm quite uncertain about everything else.

I felt poetic tonight walking home from the music building. Poetic enough maybe even to attempt writing a poem. But I got distracted by my guitar, and now I can't remember what I was feeling poetic about.

I'm not really sure what purpose is. Every time I think about this I get that ridiculous song from Avenue Q in my head, which usually makes me feel better.

Same stupid boy. Stupid stupid stupid boy.

One of the things that concerns me about getting older is losing youthful idealism.

After rewatching the first four episodes of Star Wars, I've decided that love kind of ruins everything. Makes perfectly normal bad actors mercilessly slaughter padawans with light sabers.