Zach and Michael

HI THERE

The only reason I'm writing this is because a certain someone told me I should write something for the new year.

HERE YOU GO, CERTAIN SOMEONE WHOM I CARE VERY MUCH FOR. I AM WRITING THIS FOR YOU. IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT YOU FED ME MORE ALCOHOL WHEN I WAS ALREADY OBVIOUSLY DRUNK.WHATEVER. I GOT HOME SAFE.

Once upon a time there lived a boy named Michael. Michael liked folk music. He lived for folk music. Every minute of his every day was devoted to folk music.

One day Michael's record player broke. And, although I didn't outline this earlier, dear reader, the record player was the only way Michael could listen to his folk music. So when it broke he was, naturally, distraught.

You might think that the solution to Michael's problem was to buy another record player. Unfortunately, there can be only one true record player for the true lover of folk music.

So Michael went through life with a broken record player. And he attempted to listen to folk music on it every minute of every day, to no avail.


THE END.

Can't sleep

This is going to be interesting. I am writing this post on my phone. Mistakes will be made. But I will most certainly try to be as mistake free as possible.

I just can't get to sleep. Too many bright lights. The color show is too spectacular. Fulfillment always lives on the same shelf as doubt. Every new love is quashed by a relentless yearning for the past, no matter how rich the potential future might be.

There are a thousand knots in my stomach at the moment; they are both a side effect of the hour and a tell-tale sign of my nervousness over new opportunities. It is rather painful to be awake right now.

I want to go back to university. I want to study English--you all know how I love words. And I want to study philosophy. Mulling over the state of humanity is a fascinating affair. But I need money to do that. Money is thin on the ground, especially soon, when I'll be paying for and living in the flat all by myself. So that dream will be a few years in the fulfilling.

I'm so lucky. My life is a whirlwind of adventurous chaos that usually make me cry. But I get to live it. And I do love my life, no matter how convincing my griping may be on the contrary.