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"I am ready for my close up today
Too long I’ve let my self-respect stand in my way
Well the prom queen's caught in the high beams
And the strings keen it’s a big scene

But when the house goes up in flames
No one emerges triumphantly from it
When the scum begins to circle the drain
Everybody loves a winner" -The Mountain Goats

In which Christian Bridges, in his madness and his grief, undergoes a most great and terrible deed, all the while illuminating bright, white shining things.

  On the foggy evening of May the 17th 2013, all the fair lords and ladies, beauty queens and bachelors, hipsters and renegades and even a vice principal, all arrived for the Hamiliton High Annual Prom. They came out of the mists, 

To whom ever may ever read this,

Sometimes now, as I balance between awkward hope and lukewarm depression, I cant help but think about a few things. One of the most painful realization is that your parents, your flesh and blood, are real fucking human beings – people with real and actual problems and personality quirks. To come back from college, and see that my dad has major onset depression and hardly interacts with his kids or my mom who has different views on stuff that other people may not look all that fondly on.

Journal ?

I'm finally going to get back to this LJ and try and contribute on a regular basis with some form of journal or diary.

so here I go..


I've been in a rut all day, and I have a big rough draft due tommarrow morning, and I can hardly go a couple of words with out spelling something wrong. I've trying to make the case that creative writing classes should and need to be taught along side the normal academic lingo. Some are not and will never become the people that will use such academic lingo such as Doctors or Lawyers but instead will become playwrights and novelists, the kind of people that are "hardwired" differently then most people.

and now I need to back to work, but if any one out there ever reads this I hope you enjoy the following,



Waiting for the Green Wind

Now, at 2:14 am in the morning I'm FINALLY doing it. Perhaps this new blog, diary or whatever I end up calling it, will be therapeutic and healing.

For a long time I have been afraid to really start writing again. It's a hard, long process fraught with heartache and pain, but hopefully I can endure to where ever the green wind takes me. The first step for me, is to keep it daily and with some enthusiasm, in addition to not misspell every third word. It took me an eternity to come up with psychotic mango... but with time it should hopefully sink in right? right?

P.s while writing this, I have corrected over 20 errors