North Fell

Hi All. Welcome to the world of the incredible rambling man. The pressure cooker's been off the stove for a few weeks now, and I've been relaxing for the most part. Catching up on reading here, rejuvenating my video gaming abilities there, and so on and so on. I've really enjoyed myself and I'm kind of sad to see these lazy days disappear. I haven't been this untethered since I was a kid, during the lazy summer's where games of basketball and baseball were more social gatherings than actual activities. Bike rides and trips to the baseball card shop were more about being together than they were about anything material/immaterial.

I've been thinking a lot about things lately. Big things to some, not-so-big things to others. One, I ramble mindlessly a lot about choices, such as choices I've made in the past and how they've affected me in my life. Not big melancholy ones, I would suppose. More like brain-washed meandering. I've decided I'm not much of a communicator. I keep things bottled up inside me until it's about ready to explode before I tell anyone. Take my life, someone, and tell me what to do. I keep thinking that at certain times, and I'm not sure if I would mind or not. A little direction would be a bit of a good thing, I'm supposing. As it is now I just wander and falter and sometimes stumble on something worthwhile, something worth keeping. Maybe that's just the way it all goes.

I've been thinking about how I randomly get depressive fits once every four to five months or so. Not large ones. Usually they only last for about four hours, but they're the weirdest little holes to be in, and I've noticed that I've written on here during a few of them, and I don't like what I've said. I don't like what I am when I'm in that place. Who can blame me? Does anyone else have this problem? It just feels like ... hard to put into words ... the weight of everything just feels unbearable for a while, and it becomes kind of suffocating, and I know I shouldn't let it get me down, but I can't help it. I dwell on it, and I dwell on the fact that I can't reconcile my believe in one person, one life means that most everything we do only has surface value. If I'm nice to a total stranger, I'm nice to a total stranger. I'm not earning brownie points for doing so. I'm not furthering a false position in a hazy afterlife for having done so. Maybe it's the curse of believing in nothing but life.

I've been thinking a lot about music lately. I criticize too much, I've decided, and most of the times I unfairly criticize. Give the musicians and singers and everyone else their due credit -- at least they're putting themselves out there, which is more than I can say at the moment, but I'm slowly working to change that. Who knows, maybe you'll hear my voice sometime in the future, whispering eerie sayings in your fluttery ears. I have a feeling that most of my songs are going to be about how I don't like to write songs. I guess that would be kind of cool in it's own unique way, but I can't imagine anyone being too interested in it. For my solo debut, I've always thought that it would be nice to go somewhere totally seperated from my own life. I can't tell you where. It seems like I run into someone I know everywhere I go. In fact, a good friend of mine just got back from Italy a few weeks ago and said that she met someone a chairlift going up the side of an Italian mountain that claimed to know me. I think that this would be the best time to tell all of you that I am going to be the most popular man on the planet in the near future. More books will be written about me than there are about Jesus and Muhammed Ali combined. Just you wait.

I've been thinking that I should change scenery after I graduate. Like big time move. Maybe to another continent. As long as its at least two thousand miles away. That should be the minimum number of miles that I'm allowed to deal with. All this proximity to my former selves seems constricting. How do I know that I'm actually the person I'm supposed to be? I've never drastically tried to alter my life to find out if I would become anyone else? But, I guess that gets into the ideas of individuality and whether it's a crock or not, so maybe I shouldn't go there.

I've been thinking of deleting this page because I don't think it's serving any viable purpose. But I guarantee I'll probably never do it because I don't want to lose any of the ideas I've put into here. It's kind of nice having a writing archive to grab a hold of and skim through for new ideas.

I've been thinking it's time for bed. So, I shall bid you goodnight my sweet one's and zero's. To you.