The only thing that matters is just following your heart... and eventually, you'll finally get it right.

I don't know how to describe the emotion running through me short of simply calling it nostalgic.

I've been cleaning my room; my mom asked me to do so before I left for tour, since all my belongings from Orlando have been scattered around the house for weeks. To explain, this isn't an ordinary push-things-around 'okay mom, it's clean' deal; I'm convinced that this is legit the most intense cleaning I've done, ever. Just tearing through old papers, and throwing out a ton of things that I should've never kept in the first place, and organizing to the max (actually being able to find things is quite the concept).


In cleaning, I came across a ton of old letters. There are four specific people (Joel, another Joel, Brett, and Jonathan... with a cameo amazing letter from someone who didn't sign it and whose handwriting I can't recognize) whose letters I keep reading, and they've really warmed my heart.


It is unfathomable for me to understand the words these boys were writing when I was way too young to understand them. I used to be so selfish, I used to not have any idea what I wanted from my life, never-the-less from other people, and I acted accordingly. I'm sad that I've lost contact with some people from 'back then,' but I'm still glad they touched me the way they did. Even if it took a few years more than they may have liked.


On top of the four I mentioned, there are a ton of other letters flooding boxes. Letters from old friends promising to be best friends forever. Things change.



I think I've finally condensed everything from Orlando with everything here in Miami. It is definitely a strange feeling, but my room looks pretty amazing. I wish my camera hadn't gotten stolen, as I'd love to take pictures.



Sunday I'm having my last little hurrah in Orlando. Sparky's Flaw at the Social. I love Sparky's Flaw... and I love the Social. After the show, I'm near certain I'll end up at BBQ Bar. Monday, Mom and I are going to Tallahassee to pick up the new puppy.

That black ball of mush... that's our new pup. She's no Tango, but she's damn precious, and I can't wait to get her.






While I'm on the picture-uploading kick, here's some things I painted last weekend:

Nothing too stellar, but I'm glad I got the chance to paint, a little.




My soundtrack for today is Dashboard Confessional's "A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar," mixed with The Ataris' "So Long Astoria." These albums bring me back to where I was when most of the letters I've read today were written; young and stupid.




-sm.