One of the things that going through all my blog posts from the beginning is that I find myself parsing text even more closely than I usually do.

The guy who demoted Pluto from major planet status to dwarf planet status believes that there is an actual Planet X with 10x the mass of Earth lurking in the outer reaches of the solar system.

interestingly, though in various shapes and forms, some of the bloggers that I read almost daily have been discussing letting go. so whether it is material objects, relationships and situations in general, or specific self-destructive behaviors, well, I generally do the opposite.

while postmodern literary critics (like critics of all media, genre, and timeperiod) can be full of shit, I really dig the creation of postmodern art (or is this post-post modern art? hey, art critics, I'm sorry for saying you're full of shit! can you please think of a proper name for this time period?)

now is the depth of winter
when the heart mourns for warmer days
when the sun hides behind the swirling clouds
and light plays games with the fog and the shadows
teasing with the bone-chilling brightness
and the darkness comes before you expect it
gaping like the black abyss
and the neverending fall

How taking a drive gives me these completely random ideas