I'm reading my brother's old blog again. It always makes me feel like going and doing things, making stuff even if that stuff happens to be bad poetry. Yeah. Also, taking walks. I always forget how much solitary walks are nice. I mean, also, non-solitary walks, but solitary walks are fantastic for thinking about life and stuff. I think about life both too much and not enough. I spend to much time thinking about life when I'm sitting in a room by myself and vaguely unhappy, and not enough time thinking about life when I'm outside and the sun is shining and I don't have a plan except to enjoy the day and exercise them brain muscles. So that needs to change in the near future. And I'm packing all my stuff into boxes and bags and wondering "when did I get so much junk?" Maybe I'm just in one of those moods tonight.
I miss my big brother.
When did I let my life disappear into the ether of the internet?
I always forget that the way everyone around me sees the world is not the way I have to see the world.
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