Somebody That I Used To Know - Elliott Smith

From Black Sand Journal

I listened to the namesake of this post on repeat all of last night.

Mike and I were taking a tea and coffee break yesterday afternoon at Irving between helping our friends move out of dorms. He'd been listening to this Elliott Smith song and said that it reminded him of my current predicament. "That first line, what was it?" he said before pausing for a tense moment to think. "Oh yeah, it goes - I had tender feelings that you made hard. But it's your heart, not mine, that's scarred."

I can't emphasize enough how horribly apt an articulation the song is of my entire year, so just listen to it.

From Black Sand Journal

Sophomore year is over. I'll be leaving the city in eight days and won't be back for fourteen weeks. People in Sri Lanka will ask, "So, what went on over the last few months?" - and what the fuck am I going to say? I should just link them to my blog and tell them to figure the whole mess out.

But here are a few shards. I never feel more alive than I do immediately after a concert. Photography is therapeutic. The most unexpected people read my blog. My perfect vision probably dulls my other senses. It's worth jumping fences after midnight for certain people. As a 20 year old, I don't take my good health for granted. The same two figures have alternated casting a shadow over the other in my life - while in the presence of one, all I could feel was the absence of the other.