we eat millionaires for breakfast

i talked to my grandpa on the phone today and he told me i need to write something because he doesn’t know what is going on with me anymore.

yeah i know. i am a blogging failure for awhile now. i guess i am having a moment, an extended moment, of rebellion against the internet. i’m really into the real world right now. like surfing for example: i love surfing. i like paddling as hard as i can even if i never get anywhere. i like that feeling like i am about to die when i get on a wave at all. or when a wave is coming at my head. it scares me a lot. but also it is amazing. like you can never feel that on land except maybe if you get yourself in an avalanche or something. it’s so crazy to me that there is so much ocean and yet i get like not very far out in it, at the edge of the city i live in, and suddenly i am in mortal danger. dang. it’s the greatest ever.

another thing i am into is progress and improvement, like in all fields. i feel like i am improving. i can stand up on my board. i am calmer in general. i cook a lot. and i like vegetables for real. this morning, for the second time in like five days, i went for a run. i did it because it sounded nice. and it was, actually. weirdly.

i think for a really long time i have had this feeling, like i’ve been waiting for things to happen. you know i have been doing whatever with the knowledge that at some point it will change, at some point some drastic amazing thing will happen and i will suddenly be an adult who is living a sweet life. but lately it has occurred me that i am actually alive right now, i’m 26, i’ll be dead in eighty years or a lot less and i better get on with it.

all of this is sounding pretty nauseating. i know. it’s not like my life is perfect and wonderful at all. it’s just that i generally feel pretty good about it and am sort of committed at the moment to not worrying about the future because i can’t change it anyway. besides you know saving money and getting a masters degree. but i mean not worrying about specifics. it’ll happen. or else it won’t.

one thing i have started doing: writing a private journal again. i wrote in a journal from about 4th grade until i was a sophomore or so in college, at which point i became so incredibly bored with my cliched twenty year old pain (i wrote “i love steve so much. why doesn’t he love me?” like over and over again for three years) that i quit writing a journal and stopped making out with steve every couple weeks. it worked out. but i think i am going back to it because i am feeling kind of insecure about writing at all lately, you know my whole life, and i think i might need to just get the emo stuff out in private so i can distill the stuff that other people might care about in my other writing. also i can’t write about EVERYTHING in a blog. i know i used to say you could and you should. i also used to hate olives. things change.

also here are two other reasons for staying off the internet: 1) i don’t need to hide in my room to avoid dracula woman because i don’t live with her anymore. now i can be anywhere i want in the whole apartment, doing practically whatever i want. headstands, whatever. 2) i have a real physically present human being to talk to whenever i want, about whatever i want. i can see his expression when he responds, not in emoticon form but like, on his real face. which is a lot more interesting and variable than a colon and paranthases.

plus let’s be real. surfing.

anyway, i am going to port angeles tomorrow for thanksgiving but it will just be me and my parents because my bro (his blog is here: http://mikeacker.vox.com/ but for some reason i can’t put in a link right now) is all about the blazers with his sweet new internship and is leaving the family. i have some very important projects to do. or something. also i am thinking of just being purely a visual artist. words are for babies. yeah i don’t agree with that.

happy thanksgiving, if you are into stuffing yourself with tortured turkeys to celebrate genocide. jk bff! i love thanksgiving!

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