Seasons change.

I haven't touched this blog in about year, and I'm really not sure why. I guess the shitty moments in life just caught up to me and snuffed out my positive perspective on things. Every now and then I find myself in the mood to write, but humor doesn't flow like it used to. But today, a friend of mine made a valid point. She told me I shouldn't have to be funny to write, and I should be thankful I can write at all, or something along those lines. She's right. So I'm taking a stab at something serious, something that's real, and perhaps through it, I'll find my niche again. (or maybe just a reason to bitch.)

I've been through a lot of crap in the last twelve months, some things good and others bad. For the first time I've questioned whether or not I'm a good person, having laughed when Bret Michaels almost died. I really hate Bret Michaels, but you guys know that. I've actually been asking myself a lot of questions. Anyone who knows me, knows that winter takes a heavy toll on me. It smacks me across the head with a wooden bat and leaves me crippled in the snow until that first warm day of Spring. November scuffs up my shoes while December whips out his bird and takes a piss on me. January shoves a gnarled branch up my ass and February seizes that opportunity to twist it and make off with my shit. March is pretty much just a dick who lingers over my body flicking one more cigarette butt for each day I've felt miserable. Eventually though, the snow melts, birds return, and I brush the dirt off my pants only to find that I've evolved as a person, reflecting on the things I've learned. A familiar state of well-being washes over me like a old friend, and I start exploring these warmer days. (I usually do April pretty hard once she gets here too, 'cause she's a fucking slut and doesn't mind a bit of exploring.)

But so far this year, I haven't been quite as successful. Sure, I take solace in Thursday nights, surrounding myself with those I care about and taking what advice is given to me. The weekend brings parties and good spirits, and I enjoy these things too. But soon the sun rises on a new week, and I wake up in time to see the dawn breaking over the lake. I revel in what's before me, lighting a cigarette and making my way down toward the waters edge. I'm at peace in this moment, but something is missing inside of me. I close my eyes and search for what I can't find, hoping it'll point me in the right direction. I realize I'm no closer to identifying what it is than I was before, my mind flooding with a thousand thoughts and dead-end worries. But maybe that's just it. Maybe I'm worrying too much. Maybe we all do.

In the stretch of things, I've learned a lot of lessons. You can't always have what you desire. You can't change the people you care about. You can't eat chili ramen without shitting your pants. You can't stand on top of the world if you don't give yourself the strength to climb. You'll get by with a little help from your friends. You'll get high with a little help from your friends. I could list a million things I've learned, but it's more important for me to focus on what I need to learn. I need to learn how to take criticism without taking it personally. I need to meditate on circumstances without over thinking them. I need to learn how to let go of my fears and take charge of tomorrow with an open heart. I need to learn how to grab an opportunity when it presents itself, and how to let go of those which are lost. I need to learn a lot of things, but through accepting this I've learned something more valuable than I imagined. I've learned there is little reason to be unhappy in a world with so much to learn. The pursuit of wisdom and love have always been my greatest priorities, and I've never stopped growing because of them. I like who I am.

I almost forgot how great it feels to put my thoughts into words.

Lesson learned, right?