09.06.14 - 10:24 am

i was rereading some entries from 2004. a prolific and somber year for writing it seemed. college. solitude. loss of family members. as ive gotten older, i figured id be able to keep up the pace but it seems adulthood has robbed me of time and motivation. instead of things happening to me that i can remark on, i have to seek out my experiences. and then i have to muster past the apathy in order to record my thoughts on the matter. its easy to dismiss these narcissistic journalistic urges with a simple request for my time from julie, or the dog carelessly chewing on shes not supposed to. facebook and instagram are now the way in which i record my experiences. and while this is depressing, its easy. typing takes time. thought. i am lazy by nature, and most likely growing increasingly more so.

the desire is all there. there are moments i indulge in and want to carry with me. i need this record of my life more than im willing to admit. do i find the time or make the time? lets try to make the time. lets start small.

like an adult, lets schedule.