Ramble. It's fun.

I forget how to blog. This is bad. I used to post quite frequently.

But that was at another place and another time.

Ah yes, nostalgia. How could I miss that?

Anyway, I downloaded the new Classic Crime EP from the iTunes store a while back and I've basically listened it to death. An incredible feat, really.

Or not.

I quite enjoy it, though. It's deep, talented, and I can understand the words.

Any one of those things is good. All of them together makes for one heck of a CD.
Yay for that.

So I'm sitting here, still in the office, staring at the computer screen with a facial expression about as lively as roadkill, which is pretty awesome.
My fingers are moving pretty quick, though, so I guess that proves I'm not dead. Quite.

I keep thinking recently, whenever I see a blank page, that we all really have a ton of power. Look at a blank page (on your computer, notebook, sketchbook, anywhere) and think about all of the things you could do with that paper. There are easily a thousand things, a million options if you stretch it a little, and, if you get really creative, a billion different angles from which to approach it.

That's quite a lot of options. And many of these can be enough to move mountains. After all, moving mountains only requires faith the size of a mustard seed, right? A paper is much bigger than that.
With one sheet of paper, you can create anything you could possibly imagine, assuming that you have the skill and patience to do so. Wars can and have been started on paper. They have also been ended in much the same way.
Relationships are often founded on the blank sheet. And vice versa. Or however you spell that.

So now I've made a total of three points and, if I really want to sound educated, which I'm not, I need to tie them together somehow.
Well, I have the power to do so, so I should at least try.

But maybe I should specify what those points were before I tie them together. Because there's no point in lacing up your shoes if you end up tying the laces of three completely different ones into the same bow, right?

Well, there's the nostalgic part of life. The one where we find ourselves looking backwards quite wistfully, embarassingly so at times, and wondering what it would take to go back.
Then there's music. The soothing, and sometimes aggravating part of everyday life. If you're anything like me, that is.
And, of course, the blank page. Where we begin with virtually nothing and form whatever is on our minds. Much like God when He created the universe.
I'd like to think so, anyway.

What do these things have in common? Not much, really. But they do represent the different tenses of our lives. We sometimes long for the past, though we live in the moment, constantly driving toward the future.

Nostalgia, though annoying at times (at least for me), is important. It proves to us that our pasts were important, if only to a select few. Something like music moves us in the moment, affecting our emotions as we go through life. Then we create our futures, be it with a blank page and a pen or an empty screen with a blinking cursor. It could even be with an empty plot of land.

All these things aside, every choice we make decides our heading for the future. It's like we've just begun some massive, free-roaming video game and we have an entire city to explore. Except that we have the universe.

Overwhelming and exciting at the same time. Enough to maybe invoke just a bit of nostalgia when we look back and see how much less we knew.

- - -

If anyone actually read that jumbled mess of thoughts, I applaud them.
*clap clap clap*

See?

But I thank you. It's good to be able to spew forth nonsense after a long day and not have to worry about blank stares. 'Cause I know that's all I'm getting. You are, after all, staring at a computer screen, right?

New blog

Yes, I switched to Blogger.
I have about 4,763 reasons and I don't feel like sharing any but one: I wanted to. So there.
Actually, I want to share one more. I think Blogger offers an RSS feed so I can import this blog to my Facebook.

Sorry to anyone who is offended by that.