Today something happened in the shower.  No it wasn't what typically happens in the shower...I fall and get something stuck in my butt...  No, I had one of those creative moments where everything falls into place and suddenly all your ideas seem to fit so perfectly with the world around you, and you feel as if you could reconfigure it all with but a glance.  So you rush out of the shower, over to your computer and splurge, writing as quickly and passionately as you can...  ONLY TO PRODUCE COMPLETE AND UTTER BULLSHIT.  TODAY, JUST THIS MORNING IN FACT, I COMMITTED A HORRIBLE SIN.  I WROTE A SONG.  NO, not a 'song' but a SONG, with an honest melody, jam packed with 'feelings.'  I poured my heart out onto that page, made sure that every syllable reflected the many facets of my soul as it lay shattered on the parlor floor.  And what did it bring me?  SENSITIVE GUY ACOUSTIC ROCK!?!?!  IS THAT WHO I AM UNDERNEATH IT ALL?  DO I REALLY JUST YEARN FOR SOMEONE TO HOLD MY HAND AND LOVE ME LIKE SOME PATHETIC THREE LEGGED KITTEN???  Well I think we all know the answer is clearly yes, I am a three legged kitten.  I've got all the qualities:  inability to take care of one's self, confusion of inanimate objects with loved ones, difficulty walking, and razor sharp itty bitty teeth.  I don't hate the song, in fact, I really think it reflects the way I look at the world, but it is soooooo terribly dashboard meets bright eyes and they both vomit up their breakfasts, microwave the mixture...eat it, vomit it out again, eat it, shit it out, then do their best to record the sounds. 

Just two days ago I met a man while waiting in the freezing cold for flu shot vouchers for my grandparents.  He epitomized everything I grew up loving, grew up idealizing, and grew up basing my principles around.  He was a jolly man, and an entertainer by trade.  He lived off the kindness of friends, and showed unbridled generosity to strangers.  He had come upon a number of hard times in his life, all of which nearly broke him.  But he learned to laugh at them.  To distance himself from the pain so that he could move on.  He was a man of the world, living every day to its absolute fullest.  He told me that 'life is an adjustment' there is no true hurt or joy, simply tiny adjustments we make to our living.  We simply need to make the most out of these 'adjustments.'  Then I realized that this man was not actually a person, but instead a well concealed soda-machine.  He dispensed life lessons like those truckstop condom boxes, and I WAS NO LONGER BUYING.  AN ADJUSTMENT?  MAKE THE BEST OF THINGS?  All I learned from him is we see hardship, and we choose to forget it, to ignore it, so that we can 'move on.'  Moving on is an excuse we give ourselves so that we don't have to face our mistakes, to embrace them and to live them.  Moving on is to remove one's self from the guilt of living.  (OOOOOH HERE IT COMES)

Whoa.  I basically just told everyone to shoot themselves...jethus chwrist...

eh whatev bev