One AM, 165 days after Christmas...

I hate it when I start to write and then it doesn't feel right so I erase it fifty times in an effort to figure out what shades are in my head. I'm going to just close my eyes and push through and see what comes out.

Facebook, you and I are fast becoming non-friends. Too much of you is tied up in too much of what I'm trying to forget. Every little reminder is one that I don't want or need. I feel childish even admitting this. In the last few days I've come to realize that I have the ability to feel very deeply. I mean, I've known this for a while, but when I feel deeply for something I don't want to feel for, it's like I start to hate myself. After everything, why oh why can I not stop caring? What is it that makes these emotions so blasted strong? It doesn't make sense, and because it doesn't I hate it on principle alone. It makes me feel weak knowing that I don't have complete control over everything in my head. I had a talk with someone yesterday and they called their imperfections cancerous. I didn't want to admit it, but I can really relate to that. I feel like my inability to feel anything emotional without it being powerful and consuming makes it easy to hate myself. Now, to be clear, I don't hate myself, but I do get frustrated at myself. Why can't I just be normal and not care, like everyone else on this planet seems to be able to? Facebook, you like to stir up that part of me that I can't control and that leads me to hate myself. I hate myself when I feel this because what I feel is anger and hurt and I hate feeling like that. I have plenty of directions to throw my anger rocks, but in the end it's to no avail. Everything they hit somehow hurts me more instead, so I've learned to just take the pain, let it do its work, and then keep walking. But damn you, Facebook. Really.

There are a few people that I want to thank for being particularly awesome. Rayla, thank you for everything. I read some of your notes to me tonight that I somehow missed. You are an angel and a half, and don't you dare ever forget it. Janna, I have no idea who you are, but I want to thank you. I'm having a hard time putting into words why without sounding pretentious, but here goes anyway. I think you get why I write what I do, specifically because it's how I deal with the human condition in myself. Thank you for not judging me. Word on the street is that it can be pretty easy. And Pete, thanks for explaining to me that things have been rough lately. I feel ya, bro. For the reals.

To the myriad people who have been my base and support through all of this, everyone who has been nice to me, said nice things, distracted me, loved me, I want you to know that you are noticed and loved and appreciated. Someday, I will be a rich, famous, sexy rock star, and you're all getting new cars. I'm just saying.

In other news, Everson is back. And holy crap, is it back with a vengeance. Last practice, we clicked. It all just clicked. Suddenly harmonies are popping into songs that are 4 years old and I love it. I can't wait to play shows again and show off the masterpiece that is my band. I love it, I have faith and hope in it, and even if we never play to more than however big our biggest show was, this band is a success.

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I'm rambling now, which means it's probably time to stop. I feel better. I think it worked.