I don’t like the waiting very much at all.

I hate those moments where you think you should probably be saying something, but the things worth talking about have so few words, and the rest would amount to nothing more than random fart-noises.  I always have things to say when I don’t have a (public) blog, but having one just serves to gum up the works… like finally getting a dream journal set up, and then you stop dreaming…

I suppose the biggest news since the last news that was really big would be an event already written about in great detail on my Livejournal, and very nicely stated on my brother’s blog, which is the passing of my long-time furry friend, Moses.  He passed Saturday morning at 11:32.  Though I had been prepared for this months ago when his health first started to decline, it’s still hard.  As I was telling Kev that morning, for the longest time, Moses was the only man I could ever really count on to be there and be supportive when I needed him most.  I like to think that maybe he stuck around to make sure I’d be alright without him… that I was finally in good hands.  And I do believe that his following Kev from one room to the other when walking was somewhat of a task was an approval of sorts… Mo could generally care less about people outside of the family, so that’s sort of a big deal.

Then again, I’m very sentimental, so that “I like to think” could be total bollocks.  Still doesn’t stop me from liking the idea.

He will be greatly missed.  Fat boy.  Turkey butt.  Thunder butt.  Momar.  Momo.  Mo-ron.  Moder.  Love you, Mo.

The wonderful thing about the Internet is the ability to find people, quite easily, and be given the opportunity to reestablish contact after what might have been years of silence.

The horrible thing about the Internet, however, is the ability to find people, quite easily, and be given the opportunity to reestablish contact after what might have been years of silence.

I never know how to feel when people I knew from ages ago come up and throw me a “Hi, how’ve you been?”  My initial reaction is “what the fuck do you care, years after you slagged me off?”  Then I calm down and remember that life happens and the circumstances were rather unusual (as they tend to be for dropouts).  Sure, they could’ve picked up the phone, but what is there to talk about when you never shared anything but the daily experience?  With that gone, there’s nothing to talk about.  Give it a few years, and there’s bound to be something worthy of discussion.

But the awkwardness remains.  And I would much rather not be bothered by these people, just to avoid that awkwardness.

And now here I sit, looking up people from THE PAST on facebook, wishing I could get back in contact with them, but knowing I shouldn’t, considering just how damned awkward it would be after everything that has went down since last we spoke.  Awkward because they were his friends… and although I grew to genuinely like them in our brief meetings, regardless of who they were to whom, I don’t know if I was lucky enough to have that genuine liking returned.

But I miss them, and I regret not getting to know them better before.  And I regret the thought that I might never have that chance now, with all the bitterness that remains in THE END.  I hate the thought that his incessant whining and smack-talking and “I Can Do No Wrong” -isms may have blown whatever chance I had to still call them “friends”.  I hate to think that they might actually think that I’m the delusional one.

There’s no way I can just randomly say “hi, how’s life been?”

And so I sit here, their names and faces on-screen, wishing we’d all met in a different way… or maybe not at all.