Love this

This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
Then all the Styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some worms
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again
And on the radio
We heard November Rain
The solo's real long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
Then try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some -
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
And on the radio
You'll hear November Rain
That solo's awful long
But it's a nice refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio uh-oh
On the radio uh-oh

and so it begins...

Well, folks, i do believe this is attempt #3 at writing a blog. First was the ever-popular LiveJournal, the fad that was sweeping the nation at that point in my life. I kept up with that one pretty faithfully - I guess it helped that a huge number of my friends also belonged to the LJ community, and we interacted a lot. That, of course, died out after awhile, and because of the non-stop pleading of a certain Miss B, I created a Xanga account a few years later. Naturally, that failed as well, as did my attempt at MySpace. I'm still a loyal fan of Facebook, but I don't know why that's even worth mentioning, since that lovely online community is not a blog at all, but an internet stalking device that sucks out your soul and claims it for its own. The point is, here I am, on January 10, 2008, creating yet another blog with all intents and purposes of following through. Perhaps the most attractive quality of this blog, as opposed to the others I've had, is that nobody knows about it. I might decide to tell someone - and I might not. I'm hoping that this blogger account will have the same function of a handwritten journal, but with the added perks of archives, search options, and the ability to type faster than I scrawl. So far, I've avoided thinking about what this will do to my determination to keep a handwritten journal... somehow I've managed to convince myself that I'll be able to keep them both up adequately.

Whatever happens - whether I post several times a day or drop this in a week - I seriously like the idea of anonymously rambling without fear of reprisal or giving offense. I can tell stories my friends might find boring or repetitive, or vent my frustration about whatever I want. My entries most likely will be utterly truthful, but if I choose to embellish, exaggerate, edit, or create my tales from scratch, it doesn't matter in the slightest. I can be me, I can be you, I can be anyone I want to be. It's rather liberating, even if nobody reads this. Ever. Like I said, I haven't decided if I'll share this with anyone I know. So, if you're reading this, you're probably a complete and total stranger... or maybe you're not. Maybe we're friends, or acquaintances, or maybe you've seen me on the street. Maybe we've met a few times, or a thousand; maybe we've spent an hour together, or maybe we've spent a night together. Who knows? Maybe we haven't met yet, but we're destined to become friends, or even lovers. The possibilities are endless...


and i dig that.