You will never, ever be liked by everyone. There will always be at least one person who doesn't like you. You just can't please everyone.
One day you and everyone you know will die. There's really nothing you can do about it. It's a natural part of life as terrifying as it may be to some (myself included), but this is a grim reality that we all will have to face at some point in time.
Not everyone is going to agree with you. If someone is set in their ways, no amount of debating or presented facts will change their minds. 99.9% of us are stubborn little assholes, so sometimes it's best to pick your battles and know when to stop.
There is no such thing as "happily ever after." Unless someone can give me hardcore proof of someone being happy ALL the time (really happy, not faking it), then I stand by this statement. Suffering and pain is also a natural part of life. It's something you have to learn how to deal with. Happiness won't be around all the time, but it always returns. Always. No matter how much you think it wont.
There is no such thing as the "perfect" relationship. Every relationship has its ups and downs. If you're reading this and disagreeing with me... you are one of the following: A. You're in a brand new relationship. I like to refer to this as the "honeymoon period." Don't worry, things will get normal soon enough. B. You're in denial. Something is not right, or someone is lying. Fighting and disagreements happen. It comes with the territory of sharing your life with someone. You won't agree on everything, and at some point in time your significant other is going to piss you right the fuck off, but you know what? It's normal. Normal relationships require work. That's just how it is.
No matter what you do you can never go back and correct something in your past. I don't know how many times I've wished, PLEADED to whomever controls my life, to just this once let me go back and correct a mistake I've made. But no matter how hard I tried, it never happened. You have to learn to live with your mistakes and move forward. You cannot fully live in the present if you are stuck in your past.
These are just a few things that I feel if I admit to the general public, it may be easier for me to deal with and accept in my own life. Feel free to add more...
20 September, 2010
08 September, 2010
I keep my secrets safe.
I am absolutely in love with Post Secret. The idea is brilliant. It gives people an anonymous outlet to release their inner most thoughts. Frank Warren, the creator, has saved and helped so many people just by allowing them to share their pain, frustrations or anomalies. Such a simple, simple idea... but an amazing one.
I read the Sunday Secrets every week, and I almost own all the books. And like the baby I am, I sometimes am almost (and sometimes actually) brought to tears. I put myself in those peoples situations and imagine what it must be like. Sometimes I read secrets that must have been ripped from my own brain. But I think what upsets me the most is that I can't help anyone. I can't be there for the people that need someone. I can't offer my advice on how I've dealt with a similar pain.
I don't know what compels me to want to fix everything, to comfort everyone. Up until recently I would always offer my shoulder to cry on, my inbox to vent to, to everyone... even people I barely even knew... Not because I'm nosey, but because if I can be that ONE person that makes a difference for someone battling something in their life it would mean the world to me. But as stated in previous entries, I've become more shut up and bitter in the past few years. I've actually stopped myself from offering out this help to just anyone and have saved it for just those who remain extremely close to me, or who have reciprocated that feeling of compassion towards me in the past. I feel as if more often than not, my compassion is taken advantage of. So I tend to pick and choose who I try to help.
I've always wanted to do something close to Post Secret... but mostly I'm basing this desire off the feeling of anonymity. It's sad that you will never really know someone, truly know them. People are so concerned with their image and what other people think that they can't fully express themselves unless they are hidden by that anonymous mask. You will never, ever know what is really inside the head of anyone, ever... Even honest people tend to mask things. I'm pretty honest and open, but I, much like the rest of the world, have a handful of truths that I can barely admit to myself let alone the general public. If there wasn't so much hate in this world, if people weren't so sensitive (myself ABSOLUTELY included), then maybe people could show everyone else who they really are.
(And now it's time for me to move to job #2... perhaps I will elaborate on this more later. Sorry if it seems to end so abruptly!)
If you read this feel free to leave your own anonymous comment. There's an option to do so. I'd love to know the real you.
I read the Sunday Secrets every week, and I almost own all the books. And like the baby I am, I sometimes am almost (and sometimes actually) brought to tears. I put myself in those peoples situations and imagine what it must be like. Sometimes I read secrets that must have been ripped from my own brain. But I think what upsets me the most is that I can't help anyone. I can't be there for the people that need someone. I can't offer my advice on how I've dealt with a similar pain.
I don't know what compels me to want to fix everything, to comfort everyone. Up until recently I would always offer my shoulder to cry on, my inbox to vent to, to everyone... even people I barely even knew... Not because I'm nosey, but because if I can be that ONE person that makes a difference for someone battling something in their life it would mean the world to me. But as stated in previous entries, I've become more shut up and bitter in the past few years. I've actually stopped myself from offering out this help to just anyone and have saved it for just those who remain extremely close to me, or who have reciprocated that feeling of compassion towards me in the past. I feel as if more often than not, my compassion is taken advantage of. So I tend to pick and choose who I try to help.
I've always wanted to do something close to Post Secret... but mostly I'm basing this desire off the feeling of anonymity. It's sad that you will never really know someone, truly know them. People are so concerned with their image and what other people think that they can't fully express themselves unless they are hidden by that anonymous mask. You will never, ever know what is really inside the head of anyone, ever... Even honest people tend to mask things. I'm pretty honest and open, but I, much like the rest of the world, have a handful of truths that I can barely admit to myself let alone the general public. If there wasn't so much hate in this world, if people weren't so sensitive (myself ABSOLUTELY included), then maybe people could show everyone else who they really are.
(And now it's time for me to move to job #2... perhaps I will elaborate on this more later. Sorry if it seems to end so abruptly!)
If you read this feel free to leave your own anonymous comment. There's an option to do so. I'd love to know the real you.
27 August, 2010
The Story of You and Me.
I am not the most perfect person. I have many flaws. I come with my own fair share of baggage, though I try to carry it well. There are times when I am not the easiest person to be around, and there are times when I can say the most perfectly wrong thing at the most perfectly wrong time. But I am also very loving... very affectionate... and I will do anything for those I love.
I met Corey two years ago this week, and as of tonight (or tomorrow morning, all depending on how you look at it) we will have been "exclusive" for two years. He met me at the end of a very confusing, depressing, and somewhat insane chapter of my life, but his entrance couldn't have been more perfect.
We were introduced through a mutual friend. She gave me his myspace, and gave him mine. She invited us to the same party... and the rest was up to us. At first, I was a little unsure of him. Based on looks alone (aka pictures on myspace), yeah sure I was interested... the dude had blue and green hair and TWO lip piercings... how could I not be? Everyone knows how I like the interesting looking boys. But my self esteem was being threatened by his skinny little emaciated body. I decided to suck it up and meet him anyway... too skinny or not.
Walking into the party was slightly awkward. Both of us knew we were there to meet each other (and apparently everyone else did too)... Both of us knew that we had seen the other one's myspace... but neither of us knew exactly what to say. But from the moment I saw him, I knew. I just had a feeling, before any words were even spoken, that this was a man I wanted to get to know. I wanted him in my life. It was, without a doubt, a chemical reaction. At least to me.
We didn't even end up speaking until much later on in the party. Oddly enough we were brought together because of a weird guy with a hooker. They became the ice breaker, and from that moment on words came easily.
From that first night, a little more than two years ago, we have spent a grand total of 3 nights apart. We have had our fair share of ups and downs. We've come close to the brink of self destruction a few times. But here we are. Still standing. Still moving forward. Still together.
The time has completely flown by, it still feels like I met him just yesterday... Yet at the same time, I feel like I've known him my whole life. He helps to keep me sane, and sometimes makes me insane. He helps to keep me on track and distracts me when I need a breath of fresh air, feeds me self esteem when I'm in the depths of self pity, tests my patience, and makes me laugh all the time. He frustrates and calms me, he is both my protector and my protectee. He is my love, and despite everything we've gone through, I'm glad we've gone through it together. I'm happy to have him in my life, and no matter where this life takes us I will always remember the love he makes me feel.
He saved me. He saved me from the awful place I was in, and I'm not sure he knows it. I fell in love with him so easily when before him "love" was a hard thing for me to feel. I'm grateful for him. I'm grateful for our love. I'm grateful for the things he taught me and how amazing he makes me feel. And I'm so glad to have him in my life.
I met Corey two years ago this week, and as of tonight (or tomorrow morning, all depending on how you look at it) we will have been "exclusive" for two years. He met me at the end of a very confusing, depressing, and somewhat insane chapter of my life, but his entrance couldn't have been more perfect.
We were introduced through a mutual friend. She gave me his myspace, and gave him mine. She invited us to the same party... and the rest was up to us. At first, I was a little unsure of him. Based on looks alone (aka pictures on myspace), yeah sure I was interested... the dude had blue and green hair and TWO lip piercings... how could I not be? Everyone knows how I like the interesting looking boys. But my self esteem was being threatened by his skinny little emaciated body. I decided to suck it up and meet him anyway... too skinny or not.
Walking into the party was slightly awkward. Both of us knew we were there to meet each other (and apparently everyone else did too)... Both of us knew that we had seen the other one's myspace... but neither of us knew exactly what to say. But from the moment I saw him, I knew. I just had a feeling, before any words were even spoken, that this was a man I wanted to get to know. I wanted him in my life. It was, without a doubt, a chemical reaction. At least to me.
We didn't even end up speaking until much later on in the party. Oddly enough we were brought together because of a weird guy with a hooker. They became the ice breaker, and from that moment on words came easily.
From that first night, a little more than two years ago, we have spent a grand total of 3 nights apart. We have had our fair share of ups and downs. We've come close to the brink of self destruction a few times. But here we are. Still standing. Still moving forward. Still together.
The time has completely flown by, it still feels like I met him just yesterday... Yet at the same time, I feel like I've known him my whole life. He helps to keep me sane, and sometimes makes me insane. He helps to keep me on track and distracts me when I need a breath of fresh air, feeds me self esteem when I'm in the depths of self pity, tests my patience, and makes me laugh all the time. He frustrates and calms me, he is both my protector and my protectee. He is my love, and despite everything we've gone through, I'm glad we've gone through it together. I'm happy to have him in my life, and no matter where this life takes us I will always remember the love he makes me feel.
He saved me. He saved me from the awful place I was in, and I'm not sure he knows it. I fell in love with him so easily when before him "love" was a hard thing for me to feel. I'm grateful for him. I'm grateful for our love. I'm grateful for the things he taught me and how amazing he makes me feel. And I'm so glad to have him in my life.
25 August, 2010
Exhausted
I'm frustrated... I'm frustrated with a many number of things. Me, life, humans, money.... everything. Everything is exhausting.
I feel stuck... Stuck in my mind, in my life, in my career.
Though I'm not sure any of this is new. There are times where I can suppress my frustration and exhaustion, still, I'm not very good at it... However, today, for some reason, has worn me out. Even now, I'm struggling to type at least a little something in this because I feel I have to... but it is exhausting me. Trying to find the correct words to accurately describe what it is I'm feeling is.... exhausting.
It's the anxiety kicking in with more force. My old, faithful (unwanted) friend. Slowly eating away at me, silently whispering in my ear all the things that terrify me, sucking the joy out of my existence, and slapping me in the face with dreadful reality. Lately, it's been taunting me with my number one fear, death. I can't stop thinking about it. Even during the happiest of moments my anxiety manages to slip in a little, What if he/she/you die(s)? What would you do?... Which I then have to work diligently to ignore. I hate it. I want to find out which receptor in my brain decides to fire off that little tid-bit of reality and destroy it... with fire. It's like I keep myself from being happy. But why? Why. I feel a little happiness so I have to knock myself down. But WHY?
Two years ago this was one of the happiest weeks in my lifetime. This was the week I met Corey. I remember being so overwhelmed with happiness, with those crazy little butterflies, that it actually scared me. We'd be laying together, or driving in his car, or in the midst of conversation and I'd drift off and think about how happy all of this had made me, but then, in true Sam form, that receptor would fire off a... You know this wont last. The butterflies never do. This is the happiest you will ever be in this relationship, and you'll never be able to relive this. WHY!? I remember one night in particular while we were laying in my bed I got that overwhelmingly happy feeling which was immediately followed by that little depressing thought and I cried. I cried like a little baby, but I hid it well. I didn't want to show him my "crazy," not just yet.
It's so depressing. And what's even worse is that I know I'm doing it to myself, yet I have no idea how to stop this from happening. Medication is completely out of the question. Already been down that road before, hunny, didn't like. Do not want. Never mind the fact that my insurance is possibly the worst insurance you can have besides not having any at all. But at the same time, I guess I'm learning to live with it. I guess that's all you can do really. Accept yourself for what you are and learn how to deal in a sane manner...
Growing up is really stupid.
I feel stuck... Stuck in my mind, in my life, in my career.
Though I'm not sure any of this is new. There are times where I can suppress my frustration and exhaustion, still, I'm not very good at it... However, today, for some reason, has worn me out. Even now, I'm struggling to type at least a little something in this because I feel I have to... but it is exhausting me. Trying to find the correct words to accurately describe what it is I'm feeling is.... exhausting.
It's the anxiety kicking in with more force. My old, faithful (unwanted) friend. Slowly eating away at me, silently whispering in my ear all the things that terrify me, sucking the joy out of my existence, and slapping me in the face with dreadful reality. Lately, it's been taunting me with my number one fear, death. I can't stop thinking about it. Even during the happiest of moments my anxiety manages to slip in a little, What if he/she/you die(s)? What would you do?... Which I then have to work diligently to ignore. I hate it. I want to find out which receptor in my brain decides to fire off that little tid-bit of reality and destroy it... with fire. It's like I keep myself from being happy. But why? Why. I feel a little happiness so I have to knock myself down. But WHY?
Two years ago this was one of the happiest weeks in my lifetime. This was the week I met Corey. I remember being so overwhelmed with happiness, with those crazy little butterflies, that it actually scared me. We'd be laying together, or driving in his car, or in the midst of conversation and I'd drift off and think about how happy all of this had made me, but then, in true Sam form, that receptor would fire off a... You know this wont last. The butterflies never do. This is the happiest you will ever be in this relationship, and you'll never be able to relive this. WHY!? I remember one night in particular while we were laying in my bed I got that overwhelmingly happy feeling which was immediately followed by that little depressing thought and I cried. I cried like a little baby, but I hid it well. I didn't want to show him my "crazy," not just yet.
It's so depressing. And what's even worse is that I know I'm doing it to myself, yet I have no idea how to stop this from happening. Medication is completely out of the question. Already been down that road before, hunny, didn't like. Do not want. Never mind the fact that my insurance is possibly the worst insurance you can have besides not having any at all. But at the same time, I guess I'm learning to live with it. I guess that's all you can do really. Accept yourself for what you are and learn how to deal in a sane manner...
Growing up is really stupid.
03 August, 2010
Benson's: The Obsession.
Let me introduce you to one of my obsessions: Benson's Park (formerly Benson's Wild Animal Farm).
My Benson's obsession started many years ago. I remember seeing the old sign with Mighty Mouse on it when I first moved to the area back in the early 1990's... and I remember watching an old video of me at Benson's (I think it was called New England Playland at that time)... and ever since then I've been interested in it.
When I was 17 a group of my friends and I went exploring on the grounds, but we never really made it anywhere interesting (like the old buildings). Then a little over two years ago I went back with my sister and friend and was able to explore the buildings (I actually have a journal entry of this) .
Just this year they reopened the park, completely (and beautifully) renovated and landscaped. I've been a few times so far and I always get this burst of excitement. I walk (or bike) around the grounds and (even though I may have read them a bazillion times) I stop at every single marker that explains what used to be there. I find it all extremely interesting. I always try to imagine what it must have been like when it was a full blown park, and a part of me wishes I could somehow remember being there (though I can't... I was only a year old). I have always been completely fascinated by old things or places, but Benson's, by far, takes the cake for my "old things" obsession. I have researched the HELL out of it. I've googled old pictures, I've read about it in the "Town of Hudson History" book at Barns and Noble (which I want SO BAD), and I've even bid on an old park map (I ended up finding a picture online which I fully intend to take with me to the park and walk around with). I can't explain to you why is it I'm so obsessed, but it is seriously probably one of the most interesting spots in the world to me.
My Benson's obsession started many years ago. I remember seeing the old sign with Mighty Mouse on it when I first moved to the area back in the early 1990's... and I remember watching an old video of me at Benson's (I think it was called New England Playland at that time)... and ever since then I've been interested in it.
When I was 17 a group of my friends and I went exploring on the grounds, but we never really made it anywhere interesting (like the old buildings). Then a little over two years ago I went back with my sister and friend and was able to explore the buildings (I actually have a journal entry of this) .
Just this year they reopened the park, completely (and beautifully) renovated and landscaped. I've been a few times so far and I always get this burst of excitement. I walk (or bike) around the grounds and (even though I may have read them a bazillion times) I stop at every single marker that explains what used to be there. I find it all extremely interesting. I always try to imagine what it must have been like when it was a full blown park, and a part of me wishes I could somehow remember being there (though I can't... I was only a year old). I have always been completely fascinated by old things or places, but Benson's, by far, takes the cake for my "old things" obsession. I have researched the HELL out of it. I've googled old pictures, I've read about it in the "Town of Hudson History" book at Barns and Noble (which I want SO BAD), and I've even bid on an old park map (I ended up finding a picture online which I fully intend to take with me to the park and walk around with). I can't explain to you why is it I'm so obsessed, but it is seriously probably one of the most interesting spots in the world to me.
28 July, 2010
Make it die.
So... to keep with the trend I will say a positive thing(s) (#3) before I start:
I very much enjoy my new found acceptance of being alone with myself... and it's such a satisfying feeling knowing that none of my old pants fit.
But now on to the subject I intended to write about, something I have spoken of before... This subject being one of the most evil things ever created. Something that corrupts many people, ruins relationships of all kinds, starts wars, causes crimes, aids in illiteracy, and essentially kills so many people. What is this horrible, awful thing you may ask? Money.
What a horrible concept. A piece of paper, a number in a bank account, pretty much determines your standing as a human being. This thing that is, in all honesty, something we have made up has become something everyone craves, everyone needs. But why? Why did we let this spiral so horribly out of control? What seemingly started out as maybe a good idea is now pretty much the bane of my, and I would assume most peoples, existence.
I sacrifice my happiness, my very little precious time here on earth to obtain these numbers. And for what? To give those numbers to other people. To panic when those numbers start dwindling away. To carefully count, budget, decide how to spend those numbers in order to survive. 40 hours a week... 2,080 hours a year... and essentially 101,920 hours out of my entire life will be dedicated to numbers. Theoretical digits sitting in a bank account. We are slaves to numbers. And most of us allow numbers to effect our happiness.
If there was a way to stop caring, and not just fool myself into not caring, I would do it. But no matter how many times I tell myself not to let money bother me, I still find myself craving more of it. I feel that if money really didn't matter I would enjoy my job more. I'm allowing those numbers to effect my sanity, my happiness, they control my life. But how do I make this stop? I'm not nearly as money hungry as some people, and I wouldn't necessarily call myself money hungry at all. I just want enough of it to live comfortably. I want to be able to save for a vacation and buy groceries at the same time. That's not too much to ask for. There are so many times where I begin to panic, thoughts of "How the hell am I going to do this?" start filling my head and the anxiety sets in. NUMBERS, because of numbers. I have to sacrifice one thing to obtain another, I have to fight the battle of being responsible or having fun on a pretty much constant basis, and I don't want to have to do this forever. I have never known in my adult life what it was like to be comfortable, financial wise. And with the economy the way it is, I wonder if I will ever feel that way.
I don't want to want money. I don't want it to determine who I will ultimately marry (the only pressure put on me by my parents... to find someone who will help me live comfortably). But I do, and it probably will. And this cycle will never end, this cycle of numbers. Obtaining, budgeting, giving away, panicking, wanting. Though I'm hoping, with any luck, I may find myself "comfortable" someday. It's just the getting there that is sucking the soul right out of my body.
I very much enjoy my new found acceptance of being alone with myself... and it's such a satisfying feeling knowing that none of my old pants fit.
But now on to the subject I intended to write about, something I have spoken of before... This subject being one of the most evil things ever created. Something that corrupts many people, ruins relationships of all kinds, starts wars, causes crimes, aids in illiteracy, and essentially kills so many people. What is this horrible, awful thing you may ask? Money.
What a horrible concept. A piece of paper, a number in a bank account, pretty much determines your standing as a human being. This thing that is, in all honesty, something we have made up has become something everyone craves, everyone needs. But why? Why did we let this spiral so horribly out of control? What seemingly started out as maybe a good idea is now pretty much the bane of my, and I would assume most peoples, existence.
I sacrifice my happiness, my very little precious time here on earth to obtain these numbers. And for what? To give those numbers to other people. To panic when those numbers start dwindling away. To carefully count, budget, decide how to spend those numbers in order to survive. 40 hours a week... 2,080 hours a year... and essentially 101,920 hours out of my entire life will be dedicated to numbers. Theoretical digits sitting in a bank account. We are slaves to numbers. And most of us allow numbers to effect our happiness.
If there was a way to stop caring, and not just fool myself into not caring, I would do it. But no matter how many times I tell myself not to let money bother me, I still find myself craving more of it. I feel that if money really didn't matter I would enjoy my job more. I'm allowing those numbers to effect my sanity, my happiness, they control my life. But how do I make this stop? I'm not nearly as money hungry as some people, and I wouldn't necessarily call myself money hungry at all. I just want enough of it to live comfortably. I want to be able to save for a vacation and buy groceries at the same time. That's not too much to ask for. There are so many times where I begin to panic, thoughts of "How the hell am I going to do this?" start filling my head and the anxiety sets in. NUMBERS, because of numbers. I have to sacrifice one thing to obtain another, I have to fight the battle of being responsible or having fun on a pretty much constant basis, and I don't want to have to do this forever. I have never known in my adult life what it was like to be comfortable, financial wise. And with the economy the way it is, I wonder if I will ever feel that way.
I don't want to want money. I don't want it to determine who I will ultimately marry (the only pressure put on me by my parents... to find someone who will help me live comfortably). But I do, and it probably will. And this cycle will never end, this cycle of numbers. Obtaining, budgeting, giving away, panicking, wanting. Though I'm hoping, with any luck, I may find myself "comfortable" someday. It's just the getting there that is sucking the soul right out of my body.
01 July, 2010
Disappear
So here is my positive thought of the day #2:
I really like how I look in the pants I'm wearing today. I tried them on thinking I wouldn't be able to squeeze my ass into them, but lo and behold! I'm in... and feelin' sexy. Kind of a nice, new feeling for me.
Moving on...
I've gone into a semi hibernation. For the first time in a while I'm actually enjoying alone time instead of fearing it. Corey goes in to work when I get out of it, Jon is usually off doing his own thing, so that leaves me the whole night to hang out with... me (and Valo). Usually, I'd rush around and try to make plans with people, fearing that I'd actually have to be alone with myself, but now I find it kind of nice. I (attempt) write, sometimes I even pick up my guitar and play a little, I read, go shopping, go for bike rides (or do some sort of exercise) but most importantly I relax. Sometimes I just sit with the dog and watch TV for hours... It's... nice. I don't feel the need to run to other people to help me occupy my time. I'm completely comfortable with doing things alone.
Though, I know one of the reasons I've come to this is because I've stopped trusting almost everyone. At this point I have no idea who is real and who's a liar. I have no idea if the things being said to me are even real, so I find it easier to distance myself than to try to sort out the facts from fiction. And you know, since I've been in this hibernation mode, I've had very little drama in my life.
I often worry if my absence aggravates people, but the way I look at it, my very true friends don't really need me around all the time. I assume if it becomes a problem something will be said, but I think most understand that I get this way sometimes. Just, right now I'm having a hard time coming out of hibernation... and I can't fully decide whether or not that's a bad thing.
I really like how I look in the pants I'm wearing today. I tried them on thinking I wouldn't be able to squeeze my ass into them, but lo and behold! I'm in... and feelin' sexy. Kind of a nice, new feeling for me.
Moving on...
I've gone into a semi hibernation. For the first time in a while I'm actually enjoying alone time instead of fearing it. Corey goes in to work when I get out of it, Jon is usually off doing his own thing, so that leaves me the whole night to hang out with... me (and Valo). Usually, I'd rush around and try to make plans with people, fearing that I'd actually have to be alone with myself, but now I find it kind of nice. I (attempt) write, sometimes I even pick up my guitar and play a little, I read, go shopping, go for bike rides (or do some sort of exercise) but most importantly I relax. Sometimes I just sit with the dog and watch TV for hours... It's... nice. I don't feel the need to run to other people to help me occupy my time. I'm completely comfortable with doing things alone.
Though, I know one of the reasons I've come to this is because I've stopped trusting almost everyone. At this point I have no idea who is real and who's a liar. I have no idea if the things being said to me are even real, so I find it easier to distance myself than to try to sort out the facts from fiction. And you know, since I've been in this hibernation mode, I've had very little drama in my life.
I often worry if my absence aggravates people, but the way I look at it, my very true friends don't really need me around all the time. I assume if it becomes a problem something will be said, but I think most understand that I get this way sometimes. Just, right now I'm having a hard time coming out of hibernation... and I can't fully decide whether or not that's a bad thing.
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