I need to write to keep my mind from thinking stagnant thoughts. It's not making any sense to me either, but I feel a little more relieved once I write how I'm feeling at any particular point in time. However, I wish this could be the case this time. I don't know how I'm feeling, for it is either too flippant and ever changing, or I purely do not know at the given point in time. This feeling of not knowing has risen several questions in my mind- the most poignant and important being "why?" but that is too generic and general for my liking. Not only this, but I tend to censor myself a lot. I am afraid of writing the wrong thing to the right people, or the writing the right thing to the wrong people. But if I don't write- I'll never know. This thing called curiosity is beginning to kill me, but I suppose it is a better alternative to some other things I could be doing rather than asking. I have come to the realization that I have amassed 14 or so cds over the course of winter break, either by gifts from Christmas or through my own money. I am quite excited at the proposition of listening to new music. I bought three Devendra Banhart albums, and they are all amazing. I've been listening to his latest album "Cripple Crow" and it is a nice escape for me when I begin thinking too much or when I'm getting stressed. I remember coming home after school on Thursday and falling asleep whilst listening to this album, only to be awakened by my father and his reminder that I had a guitar lesson to attend. But it felt good nonetheless. I'm realizing that there have been times lately where I want to relive past events for fear of them never happening again. I get this irrational fear that whenever I really have a good time, I'll never experience it again. That for some reason, I get paranoid at the prospect of never having fun again and becoming submissive to life. Which is understandable I guess- but there's a line between remembering the past and living in the past. This line can often make the difference between a life hardly lived and a life lived. I just need to know where this line is, and to not cross it. I've just realized that I can't live in the past anymore (or whatever I feel it is) for fear of missing what is before me. That when I am spending too much time thinking about what is behind me, what is before me becomes the new past. I don't know. I don't think this post was supposed to make any sense, but merely as a way of me venting my frustration with current situations and my feelings towards said things. I left my mood blank because I don't know how I'm feeling at this particular point in time, and I didn't find any one specific word to encompass the entirety of my emotion that I am feeling currently.