My website is coming back. I can’t believe it. Stay tuned. Also, Wordpress 2.6 is pretty damn slick.

Well, I got back in Pittsburgh today. Unfortunately, my spring break is as good as over. Bummer. I have so much freaking junk to do, and so little time to do it in. But, I guess, thems the breaks. Brawl’s been keeping me pretty busy for most of the day, but, between spats of the Subspace Emissary, I managed to improve my game my switching up how my desk was arranged. I figured out that half of the crap on the desk I’m at most, I don’t actually even use.

So, in the name of efficiency, I switched it up.

Here’s what my dirty room looked like before hand:

It looks like a boar ran through my room, right? Well, that’s nothing a little elbow grease can’t solve (and some boar pheromones and a trip to the emergency room, unfortunately). Here’s how it looks now!

Quite an improvement, eh?

You know, I think I say this on here at least once a year – but, when it comes to my capacity for caring, this whole breakup mess has drained that pretty quickly. You might even say that the breakup had a straw that reaches alllllllllllll the way across the room. Hell, you could even go as far to say that the relationship drank my milkshake, perse.

It’s coming up on the tail end of my spring break out here in Aston, and I’m basically gearing back up to catch a flight back to the snowy, noodly city that I’ve been living in for a couple years now. In this process, I’ve kinda gotten caught up doing just the thing I normally do: get distracted and look at my old Beanie Babies. After sorting through a couple of them, I happened upon an old shoebox of books I’d collected from high school. After rooting about in it for a couple seconds, I’d realized that this box basically reflects everything that I was into back during public school: cheap fiction, German dictionaries and doodling cartoons.

However, at the very bottom of the box, I found an unusual red folder pressed against where the box’s folds meet. When I grabbed at it, it slid from underneath the weight without any trouble at all. Confused and curious, I folded it open and was met by a sight I later kicked myself for letting myself forget about:

I know that it’s just a piece of construction paper, but, who knows the effects of the heart, eh? I haven’t talked to Lindsay in a long time – after she graduated, she just disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Any attempts to contact her have more or less tanked. I’m not really sure where she is or why she’s gone! But, all I know is that I’m pretty sure that she’s always going to have a special place in my heart.

And, you know, seeing her Valentine’s Day card again really reminded me of that. I do miss talking to her.

In other news, the power just went out when I was writing this! For the second time this week! We lost it last Wednesday as well, on my grandfather’s funeral. Talk about a sense of timing!

Hey guys! Well, if you’re close to me, you probably already know – Christina and I are splitsville, and she’s broken my heart harder than anybody ever has. Sunday wasn’t a good day - rainy, cold and lonely. Whatever. Anyway, the adjustment’s been a little more difficult than scaling a brick wall – but, I’m positive that, with a little effort and some gusto, I can not only scale it, but bury it in thousands of pounds of mixed cement.

In times like these, it’s always been pretty therapeutic to try and get my thoughts out somehow. Previously, I’ve written in this blog, tried to draw comics in my DeviantArt, or just scribble on white walls with a black magic marker (it’s still sitting in my drawer!) – but that ain’t gonna work this time.

So, I’m pleased to say that my 4-comic-a-day project is underway. The whole idea is that, throughout my day, I’m drawing 3 or 4 panel comics based on my thoughts or odd little things I’ve noticed. At its ground-level, this thing is about me and for me – I don’t really expect any of you guys to read it every day (or at all, for that matter). But, I’m throwing it all online in hopes that, perhaps, somebody’ll find some truth of themselves through this.

I’m gonna try and stick to a schedule of updating it every night, but, I’ve been known to get lazy. My short-term goal is really just do this for a whole month, but, we’ll see how it progresses.

Click here to pop in, or click the banner at the very top of the page! The thing has an RSS feed as well, so, feel free to use that too! I’ll be adding more to the page design as time goes on.

Anyway, thank you EVERYONE that’s been sharing a sympathetic ear, eye and hug with me – if this terrible experience has taught me anything, it’s who really cares about me! Thank you, everyone! I’ll be trying to tell you all individually, but some of you are so hard to reach! But, rest assured: I’m thinking about all of you and feeling insanely grateful that you’re in my life. I love you all!

Hoo… Hoooo… Hoooooooooooooooaaarkk!!

Well, the heater broke in our house –– er, that is, it’s moreso on the fritz. While we can get the thing working again if we flip the power switch back and forth, imagine having to do that every hour. It gets a bit irritating to have to constantly pay attention to it (although, I’m finding that increasingly impossible to not do, considering that the thing continuously farts out cold air like a kid throwing a friggin’ temper tantrum), needless to say.

So, as I’m typing this, my fingers feel roughly the equivalent to a pack of frozen hot dogs.

Regardless, it seems like the wintery spike of the Pittsburgh cold is becoming more and more appropriate to my life in general. Without really delving into a lot of detail (and, if you’ve met me in true person, you’re probably already aware), things aren’t going so well. Not well at all. I honestly still feel like a garbage bag full of broken furniture, if that makes any sense.

I’m so incredibly confused right now – and the worst part of it all is that, despite it all, I can’t really describe exactly how I’m feeling to others. Hell, I can’t even describe it to myself. I know that a lot of people say that trying to reduce one’s problems to a series of notecards is a healthy medicine, but, I can’t even articulate myself that far. It’s really difficult to have to deal with this junk.

There were so many things said – so many failings and shortcomings. And, you know, at the end of it all, my cellphone felt more like a door snapping shut than ever before. No longer a portal or an entryway, but rather, a tensed-up reminder of my own undoing.

God, affection seems like such a ghost from where I’m standing. I don’t even know what to think, or even what to say. I wish I could, at this point.

However, as more and more cold air leaks into my room from the door and window cracks, I’m reminded of so many terrible things. As metal chills and shrinks to contract, so few thoughts warm my breath – the heater hiding in the basement isn’t the only thing starting to break.

I got back earlier than I’d expected from grocery shopping this afternoon (and, wow, that’s seriously an adventure every damn time), so I decided to poke around an old external harddrive. Now, this drive is pretty much the only survivor I have of nearly ten years of data from my Windows years – and subsequently, some of the only surviving records of my childhood douchebaggery.

I’m sure that everyone on this blog is already familiar with the fact that I went by (and, I guess, still continue to go by) the alias of MobleSprout. Well, unstuff your earholes for this gem:

Nya nya nya! This should be audio. Use a browser that uses audio!

Growing up is its own reward. Heh heh.

What’s this? A new post? Good lord! I know that I’m probably too fargone on updating this thing to really pull the attention back of the people that did read this thing, but, what the hay? I was staring at all the stuff I’ve accumulated on the site over the past couple years, and man, it seems unfaithful to stop updating it at all. I mean, honestly, I can’t say anything about how often I’m going to be adding to this thing from here on out, but rest assured: I haven’t forgotten about it.

Well, a lot’s happened. A lot. When I say ‘a lot,’ I really mean, QUITE A LOT. Without going into private specifics, Christmas break happened. My birthday happened. Thanksgiving break also happened! I’m pretty sure that I covered some of that in the last post, but… holy crap, dude! The breaks that I spent with Christina were, without a doubt, some of the best times of my life! Seriously! I can’t ever really remember being that happy and that complete with somebody else before.

And what else can I say? Being back in Pittsburgh really bites. I wish I were back on the other side of the state with her, but, fate is cruel. What else can I do? I’ve got classes to finish up here.

It’s interesting what that romantic drive can do. We’ve been together for nearly six months now (February 10th! Count it - 23 days!), and DUDE! I’ve felt like I could move mountains just to see her face! I’d kick down brick walls to catch a glimpse of her smile!

God… There’s seriously so much to say about it, but, you know, writing scarcely feels like a real way to express it anymore. I think the feeling’s most comparable to a man with broad shoulders getting wedged between the edges of a doorframe. There’s a lot of mass there, and really, it’s just all trying to come out at once. The most I can eke out is a simple phrase, packed to the rafters with gooey meaning – “I adore her.”

And it’s true!! I adore her in the way that the woodpecker adores the tree. I adore her in the way that duct tape grips to steel. Love is such a beautiful thing, and you know, despite its caveats and difficulty, I still hold steadfast to the idea that it’s the only thing in the world worth a damn.

Who knows? That life-raft may very well be the only thing keeping me afloat.

Either way, here I am. I’m back in Pittsburgh and I’m nearly a state away from the fiercest love burning in my life. 23 more days. It’s going to be tough, but, I swear. We can do this.

Wish me luck, Internet strangers. Give me a toast to love, while you’re at it!

(God, it’s weird writing on this blog without being sad, lonely or letting go! What does that say about me? Hee!)

Well, rather than just starting off and going into what’s happened since the last time I updated, I’ll give that a skip for now – after all, why bother? The dorks that read this thing have probably heard from me already exactly what happened and how I felt. But, I guess, if you spaced out, I’ll sum it up with a huge abridgement really quickly (and I warn you, I had to restrain myself to get this out as clear-cut as I had - I could go into this for hours):

I came back into Aston for my birthday, and Christina, forever the awesome girl, went through the trouble of throwing me a surprise birthday bash. She and our friends all showed up and hung out with me for the night, and really, it was one of the best nights in my recent memory – and I’m absolutely positive that it’ll stay with me forever. Gosh, the cards that everyone and Christina alone are already in my box of sentimentalities from the time of Christina. But then, after a tearful goodbye, she and I parted ways again and got back to our busy lives.

But, I guess that’s where the stories of happiness and completeness take a… uhh… all-expenses-paid vacation for a little while. Life is busy near the end of the semester. That’s a solid, unchanging fact. It’s an archetype, almost – no matter where you go in the world, in every human culture, students’ relationships and social lives linger and languish near the end of a semester. Big deal, right?

Well, let’s just say that, patience has to be the hardest virtue to exercise. I’d never known. I swear, it’s extolled as being such a necessary thing to the survival of humanity on TV or in movies or something – but really, until I was actually required to pull it out of my hat, I’d never realized just how difficult it can be.

I understand the lessen hidden beneath the frost now – to be patient and to be understanding is a form of self-sacrifice. Patience is a willing denial of your baser human instincts and mechanics, I’ve gathered. And let me say, ANY denial of one’s baser human instincts hurts like hell. In retrospect, I’m surprised that I even have the strength to take the task on at all.

But, I guess like Christina said, love does crazy things.

Case in point, though – Christina is busy. She’s usually completely flooded with schoolwork that’s gotta get done. Be it the newspaper or just plain ridiculous projects on the agenda, they’ve got a higher priority than me – and understandably so! I’ll be here. I care about her so much that I’m not going to flip out because of a temporary thing.

But, honestly, it’s becoming increasingly apparent to me as time goes on that my baser instincts are forces to be reckoned with. Another thing I’ve learned over the past week or so is that, hey, love is a selfish thing. There’s no lie about it – I want to see Christina, and I want her attention. Over the past week or so, we haven’t been able to talk for more than five minutes at a time – and dude, it hurts. I seriously miss her like crazy. As often as I tell myself to just sit back and wait it out, my lizard brain keeps reminding me how neglected I feel.

It’s the case of head vs. heart, I guess; I think I’ve talked about it before on here. My head is rationalizing, thinking outloud, “why are you upset? She’s just busy, and she doesn’t care about you any less.” Meanwhile, my heart has one of those old-timie-director megaphones and is hollering into my ear – “Don’t you miss her? Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk to you!”

God, I feel like I’m trapped in a corner at that point; really isolated, you know? Where’s the middle ground that’s promised to a man of virtue? Understanding promised to make me feel content - to feel accomplished and mature. But, I suppose that the formula for wholesomeness through virtue isn’t complete. Something’s missing, and what it is, I’m unsure of.

But all I know so far is that, gosh, it hurts. Nobody told me that it’d hurt so much. In the same vein, however, I noticed just how powerful love can be. Despite all the pain and the feelings of isolation and the (albeit, made up) feelings of neglect, I still see her surrounded by a pale, calming light. And that’s not fading, despite what happens.

I guess that’s what Jesus meant when he said that love endures all things.