My Mistake

Seems I've been slipping somewhat in the posting business. Seems I had a busy weekend, and I wasn't exactly in the mood to post on here for a majority of it. I'm at work now, so I shouldn't be posting, but it's exceptionally quiet right now and there's really not much for me to do. So here I am, posting and whiling away the hours.

That situation I was whining about before seems to have settled. Looks like I burned a bridge. Funny to think about that someone that I was close to for several months might be the closest thing I've got to an enemy now. Maybe the fact that I don't really have any enemies to speak of means I haven't tried hard enough.

Although me not trying isn't exactly a shocking development. I plan to change that, but I've planned that before with uninspiring results. Perhaps this is called an inspiration. I want to show her that I'm someone worthy of respect, even if I can't be a good friend right now.

Bah. That's enough emo shit for now. I generally don't have any particular plan in mind when I write these posts - I'm basically just letting my mind and fingers wander until I figure I've written enough, and then I post it. No editing, no second guessing, no thought, I just do it.

Ted Kennedy has a malignant brain tumour, eh? That's unfortunate. I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone, but I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that the first thought that came to mind when I heard about it was wondering what exactly this development will do to the power balance in the United States Senate. It's a shame a large part of his legacy as one of the most successful and longest-serving senators will be tainted by his involvement in a woman's death, but that's the kind of thing that tends to damage a person's reputation.

Not to mention a lot of people will claim to feel that it's a bigger shame that the woman isn't still alive. They'd be right, of course, as a political and personal legacy is a fickle thing anyway, but lives always end and a continuing legacy is far more lasting if you've made enough of an impact. I've still got plenty of time... or so I think. I won't be alive in a thousand years, but if I start working now I may be able to impact events that far down the road.

When I say impact, I of course mean impact beyond the logical impact that my existence has on the world. Nobody can not affect the course of history, it's just the level of contribution that varies.

Hell, if I survive till 20, I'll be surprised. Call it a hunch, but for whatever reason I doubt I'll make it there. There's a grim certainty that I'll end up cutting out early, and I don't mean for lunch. I'm not too fussed about it. I can't say I really dread death, and I can't even name my worst fear.

I don't know. I'm not fearless by any means, but I can't think of anything that scares me more than anything else. It's an odd feeling I can't really put a name to. Honestly, I just view death as the world's longest, most restful nap. I suppose I just need to get over this fatalism and squeeze as much life into the time I've got left as I can.

Don't know how long I'll stick to that, though.

I can try.

I have to, really. Not like I can do anything else.

I'm out.
I'm not insane.