You have to start at the begining to find the current.

My time blogging started a while back, convinced by a now ex that it was another way to stay together. I don't know what you want to get out of this flow of thought for yourself, but if you are easily bored with details, I can tell you to skip to the next set of signs. ///

I was born ('85) in a small town where the rich are millionaires and the rest of us work for them. No one knows where we are unless they are here, come here, or don't care either way. I have a severe distinction of black and white when it comes to legalities, and a gray area in everything else I try. Two parents at birth, three now (since '01) living with two, feel estranged from the other most of the time because of the natural barrier of conversation created by a father becoming a friend after a divorce. I love him, but I was never comfortable talking with him about anything other than cars and building things, which, is part of the reason I became interested in those subjects. I wanted to relate on some level. Pretty average life for a kid with a high IQ -- staying inside off the streets of foreign neighborhoods (we moved a few times) and learning to relate more with a computer than with others. Learned to negate that when I went to college with people just as un-used to social interactions as myself. We all grew together, and if you know much about anything I pay attention to, I can rattle off hours of conversation. I still have a lot of trouble with anything "small talk."

I'm needy. I learned early I am rarely happy unless I am around someone I can confide in, and occasionally I will become depressed if this need is not met. That said, I am picky about girls, and fight with myself between the urge to not be alone, and avoiding dating someone for the sheer pleasure of company. I'm not proud of everything I do, and think everyone else should share that sentiment about themselves. I rationalize my negative qualities as normal, and my positive ones as extraordinary.

I am lonely most of the time in my home town
I sometimes feel better writing in stanza form
I constantly spell-check myself
I try not to look for love in the wrong places
I imagine more people will read this than actuality
My salvation is my brother and sister (though technically his wife, not my sister)
They keep me company and included
They might be the only two who read this
Well
Matt will probably glance
But he is so wonderfully busy
And I wish the best for him
I don't expect him to keep religious track of this rambling

///

Now that everyone is back, I am starting this as a way of getting my thoughts out of my head without the benefit of a confidant. Maybe it will help, maybe it won't, but there is no hurt trying.