I'm half a step away from perfection, but it's a giant step.

I feel like i'm so close to finally breaking the bank on this whole dream job thing, but it's such a touchy final drive. I need to get definates, and i need to keep my head, my wits, and not get too ahead of myself.

The Flaming Lips always make me want to write, and write I shall, for the rest of my life, it seems.

Amen to that.

College is officially over. The year is starting without me, and i have no bearing on what the people do this year, the college, or anything that will go on there. It's nice to not have a part, but tough to leave people there, without you. It's a selfish thought to think, that the college can't possibly function without me, but it did before i went there, and it still will. This whole thing feels like i've already said it before.

In a way, I kind of like that. It means that i've finally settled on a feeling for this whole thing.

When you can't hear the sound that the keys make when you hit them, you notice the way they feel a lot more. They are smooth from years of work, dirty, you don't need to see them to know that they are off white; non-virginal. They've been pounded, said things they didn't want to, and been along for one hell of a ride. I've had the same keyboard since freshman year of college, i believe. This board has my markings on it, crude drawings and lines made with a sharpie and a pencil long ago. Where my palms rest, they've been worn away, and a slickness replaces them. There is a smiley face in the middle of the Microsoft logo, hidden, but with eyebrows. This keyboard has always really been special to me. For the longest time I didn't play an instrument, and I thought of this as my instrument. I knew the ins and outs of it, and I could make it do things that other people couldn't. Instead of notes and symphonies there were letters and words. It was a cocophony all my own. I could make it grand, discordant, everything. It empowered me. It is, and was, my prosthesis.

But now I play an instrument. The old keyboard has seen better days. The backspace is sticking, as well as the "a" and the "d" key. They only stick once in a blue moon, but it's enough sometimes. The "end" key is the filthiest of them all. In spite of some attempts to clean the board, it remains grimey. It is the least used key, and thus retains the filth of ages. 9 has a pretty good grime going, but "end" is just as it says, the end.

It's important to know your instrument. When you know that it's slowing down, you know that time has passed. When you know that time has passed, you realize that you need to move on. When you move on, you take the old instrument with you, to remind you of where you've been, and to help you get a grasp on where you're going. These are the scars of memory, the things that we always take with us wherever we go. These are the things that keep us grounded and sane.

"you have the most beautiful eyes"

-ccm