a brief, fleeting moment

usually i never ever know what to write about.

but i think i have a pretty good idea of why i write.

i want to put into words how i feel about things and about the way i live and about the way i think, but i suck at it since my command of the english language blows (the phrase 'how i feel about things', for instance, is as boring and unoriginal as this parenthetical insert. hah.) i want to believe that each entry i write is another opportunity to understand who i am or the way i think or whatever.

i put specific, fleeting moments in my life into words so i can understand them better. but i am unable to visit and revisit all of those fleeting moments long enough to process them into text. most of them slip through my shallow short term memory (i should be more willing to write shit down in a notebook/remember to carry my notebook on the subway trains).

i try to revisit those moments in my life where i am searching for a specific within an ambiguity. you may ask, where the fuck did you get that phrase from, andy? well, i got it from my expository writing class. anyway, i try to revisit those moments, but i can't recreate them on command. sometimes its a scent that makes me take a step back and remember the summer before my sophomore year at blair (its my roommate's shampoo and i cannot describe in words the scent). sometimes its the color of the sky or the shape and movement of the clouds that reminds me of early march, the spring tennis season. sometimes its the rattling of the 1 train that reminds me of my childhood in chicago, living beneath the rude racket of the elevated track in a tall, narrow red bricked building. regardless, as the memories flash quickly in my mind's eye, it just as quickly fades into now, the present, reality. i want to capture those moments and put them into words that i can visit and revisit whenever i desire.

and the 'moments' are not as simple as 'this smell reminds me of working at NIST', but more of the emotions evoked when thinking about those moments; emotions that the most complex, hi-res emoticon cannot handle ;). but feel free to prove me wrong.

i like to write about myself. about my life, the things i do, the things i don't do. about the way i think, my thought processes, my sense of humor. about little things during the day that matter to me. about people who i talk to, laugh with, love dearly, miss considerably. i write to tackle my problems, to find solace in my confusion, to reconnect with myself. i write to figure shit. i do not write with the word 'and' :).

i am carving my own niche into the world, one spoken word at a time. hello, world!

my habit of smoking weed this past year has made me talk to myself in my thoughts, a la scrubs. is that weird? now i forget if i have always did that. but i know for a fact i have a conscience, just not sure if it is a good one.

-andy

now playing: alanis morrisette - you learn