I enjoy the strangest of nostalgia.

I seriously suck at finding things that isn't my magical-always-locatable-old-pendant-coin-of-awesome.

I'm easily the most observational person when it comes to human beings. That, or everyone around me is an inattentive dipshit. However, for all my observational prowess when it comes to people, my ability to find my own shit is depressingly horrendous.

So, yeah. Fuck my phone.
It'll show up in a hole on the other side of town or something.
Until I find it, I'm going to show you a song that made me laugh.
Or, at least, makes me laugh right now.



Yes.
This is bloody adorable to me right now. xD
I dunno. Thinking about just how idiotically bad my heartache used to be is distracting me from the actual subject I want to talk about, so I find this beautiful at the moment.

I often end up getting strangely interested in these kinds of songs even when I'm in a perfectly fine mood, but I remember being predictably entranced by this sort of nonsense at the time.

I also recall you making a comment to how I should "stop being emo" once, shortly after we started talking again. Something about trying to provoke me on to talk to you two.

... yeah.
You don't always have the greatest of tact. xD
Granted, in hindsight that's a perfectly legitimate comment, but considering I was still fairly sore when we started talking again at first - the only reason I had made contact was that I was afraid I'd get too comfortable with hiding from you to ever be able to talk to you again - it wasn't the best of things to say.

Anywho, this is one of those songs I ended up bumping into at the time, and listening to it now, it, for some reason or another, amuses me. I had to bite my tongue to keep from waking up the house.

Yes, I found it that funny.
Yes, my sense of humor is that demented.

So... this is me.
Sharing an old "emo" song.
Because it's funny now.
And stuff?

There are two reasons this probably really amuses me at the moment:
I have toyed with the idea of burning your stuff

At a certain point, setting fire to the hard copies of the artwork you had was very, very tempting. Because I'm irrational, I decided to actually buy a fireproof storage box, put all of the physical copies of your artwork that I had, and lock them in there.

The beauty of it?
I lost the key that unlocks that fireproof box.
Yeah.
Like I said, I'm depressingly bad at finding my shit.
I'm surprised I only lose things as much as I do.

The second amusing bit is probably the use of the word 'bittersweet.' You've stopped using it as religiously as you did, but I recall a point in time where you simply loved to abuse that word. So much so, that after a while I started to wonder if you were aware of the meaning of the word 'bittersweet.' I like abusing words too, so I never really brought it up, but... good god, it was one of your favorite words for a while.


... God damn it, where is that fucking phone. >>;