We Are The Sound

There have been some occurrences as of late. Certain indirect encounters that've caused those seeds to sprout once more. A friend's rendezvous downtown that became a 'run-in'; a certain concert that undoubtedly was attended and the plethora of individuals who accompanied; the couple necking at the hardcore show at Emo's on Saturday.

What sparked the recent resurgence was the open discussion and reality that on any given weekdayhour I could come face-to-face with what I fear most. When brought up, that awful feeling rose from my innards and the throat lumped up. Since then, it's been a recurring irk in the back caverns of my cranium. Spacing out on the edge of the pit pondering my errors and staring at the ceiling as the sun rises realizing that my standards are too high and the search is futile. Then I think about how I've still got a year plus(if lucky) before I'll be completely past these gut wrenchings.

Simply put, my high speed positive outlook hit roadspikes.

Additionally, I wonder if the friends made were ever really 'mine'. I recently read an article about how break-ups bring with them the complication of dividing mutual friends. Didn't really happen that way for me because I made the choice to start over and eliminate any possibility of drudging up bad feelings. However, it seems as though I was just passing. A footnote, if you will. They were her's before me and her's after. In hindsight, I don't know how things ever clicked. Maybe because I just kept my mouth shut. Interests shared seem relegated to drinking, proximity, and college. For example, I'd rather see 100 other artists than Broken Social Scene and Elliot Smith is probably the last dead musician I'd resurrect to perform one last time.

That's enough emo for today, kiddos.