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  1. Diddly Doo

    by , 12-07-2011 at 11:54 PM (Nostalgia)
    I'm going to be selfish and write something beyond my typical one-a-month quota. I've still got half an hour till bedtime, and I've got another itch that needs scratching.

    For the first time in a while, I am trying this whole writing thing without a single sip of whiskey on my tongue. I have no idea how well it's going to turn out, but whatever. I've got this notion that I might have had somewhat of a problem this last summer, considering there's a large chunk of my memory missing. ...
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  2. I Just Don't Get It

    by , 11-30-2011 at 05:21 PM (Nostalgia)
    This may be a very sudden observation of things that have always been, or maybe I am not crazy and there has been an onslaught of the "I Believe in God/This is why God exists/I give my life to God" threads and blogs. I have no problem with belief or discussion of belief. Unless someone shoves it in my face and says "HEY! YOU! LISTEN! BELIEVE IN GOD BECAUSE I DO!" I pretty much don't really care. I don't have the knowledge or wisdom to argue or agree, so I just let those ...

    Updated 12-01-2011 at 08:58 AM by skib

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  3. Just talking

    by , 11-16-2011 at 01:10 PM (Nostalgia)
    I don't have a whole lot to say, really. I haven't written anything in a while and my fingers are itchy. I have been in the mood to write, I've had the inspirations, but I just haven't had the drive to put anything down; instead I just sit and listen to my emotion-equalizing tunes. Things have been somewhat melancholic as of late, not for any overbearing reason. Life is good, to be honest. I'm halfway abandoning my ways as a drifting hick this winter and attempting to be a ski bum. I moved ...
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  4. the latest inspiration

    by , 11-01-2011 at 01:54 PM (Nostalgia)
    Right on the edge of the cliff overlooking the river, he sat with the mostly empty bottle. With every sip the memories flowed. As painful as they were, they were healthy. He'd spent so long suppressing them, trying to burn them out and all he'd done was inflame them. Now, sitting at the place every single one of those memories had roots he felt like he might actually come to terms with things. Was it four years ago? Five? Six? He couldn't remember when it was he'd first met her. He couldn't ...
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  5. more complaints

    by , 11-01-2011 at 01:19 AM (Nostalgia)
    music has always been my hiding place from my own thoughts. i can typically plug in whatever melodies negate the thought processes happening in my brain, or it gives me the calm i need to power through to whatever release can be had.
    tonight is the exception. i am done at the ranch for the time being, and i have a few days to blow off before i head back into the hills for the next chapter in my scattered life. I am sitting here skipping song after song, artist after artist, hating ...

    Updated 11-01-2011 at 01:24 AM by skib

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