simple

Decided to head back to Xanga. This is what, the 3rd or 4th time, right, Mark?

You are on my mind.

And that takes a lot. There was a time that my personality was a trusting one; yet something changed in me and it became incredibly difficult to win my trust. It wasn’t a conscious decision or any particular event, but a gradual shift in my fundamental faith in humanity. Yet now I find myself reversing that tide, and again returning to warm and familiar shores.

These are the shores of trust, of comfort, of happiness. The cynical me is still along for the ride, and always will be as he is my loyal warden; yet a much younger, more optimistic has awakened wide eyed from his ancient slumber, gazing around at a world he had heretofore only glimpsed in inconstant dreams. This is a world that You are showing me, and for that I thank You.

I need to start batting singles again.

My tendency has always been to fixate on the grandiose and chase after websites which have the potential to “hit it big”. I’m slowly realizing that a better strategy is a mixed approach, one which utilizes primarily small websites to generate relatively small bits of income (”singles”), with enough spare time to build out one potentially major website (”home runs”).

I’ve had this strategy flipped for a long time, but looking at my checking account it’s clear that nearly all my non-employment income for the past few years has come from these singles. In fact, there’s one website that makes $100-$200 a month despite the fact that I pay zero attention to it; in its heyday it would easily make me double to triple that. The truth is, I’ve never had more than one single running at a time; but now, I have the opportunity to get at least three going at once. It adds up.

It’s time to start hitting those singles so I can move out on my own.

… is impossible to do now.

Damn you. =P

Everything hurts.

Well, everything above the waist. I’ve been doing the squats and milk routine for the past two weeks, which despite focusing mainly on the legs and back muscles, also primes my body for some mondo muscle growth. Yesterday I finally caved in to my vanity and hit the upper body exercises; incline bench press, bent over rows, even the pec dec (I hate machines).

The result is that I can’t twist my body without feeling pain, but it’s lactic soreness that hurts oh-so-good. My mom even said that I’m looking bigger, especially my arms. She was surprised by the rapid growth, but I know that this is just muscle memory at work as my body returns to its previous state. What I need, however, is to break past my current weight threshold (approximately 130 lbs lean mass) and get to 140-145. I think my appearance will make a radical shift for the better at that point.

To infinity and beyond!

Music is truth.

I’ve known for a long time that the mind plays tricks. It’s fairly easy to rationalize myself into all sorts of fundamentally stupid decisions, which scares me. Music, ironically, keeps me objective by reminding me of those things that matter the most to me. That is, matters of the heart.

Fear not, sappyphobics: the heart’s dominion is vast and stretches far beyond romance. Family. Goals. Things that make me happy. God, music … you are the liaison with my heart, without which I would be utterly lost.

Just when my mind convinces me to sit down, the music tells me to get up …

    to get up …

            to get up and DANCE and not settle for unhappiness.

I won’t worry my life away …

Simple is a dream.

It’s a dream that I find myself inextricably drawn towards, often brashly and with little regard for the consequences. Old clothes, relationships, jobs, you name it — they’ve all been sacrificed at the Altar of Simplicity, all so that I could breathe clutter-free air. Life, however, is anything but simple. Yet through it all I still try to keep my desk clean, my bills paid and my obligations minimal.

Simple is not what this blog is. It will be filled with words, so if you are verbiage averse and in search of simple visual satisfaction, go elsewhere. Maybe here (warning: turn your speakers down, please).