I’m not sure where or when we drifted apart– actually, that’s a lie. I do know, but looking back at it now, it feels like it could have been something we could have prevented from happening. I think what I miss the most about you is having someone close to me that I could share all my stories with. I don’t have one person that knew everything about me; that was you. Everything now is just sort of scattered around with different people. Sometimes, I forget what story or situation I’ve told one person and get all mixed up with my words.

It took me a really long time, and I mean years to understand what happened that day. It made sense in my head, but it didn’t make sense in Nida’s head. This wasn’t the girl of my dreams by a long shot, she was just a high school crush that I happened to find some courage with to express how I felt. I’m really glad I did or else I wouldn’t have learned.

Once upon a time, there was a nice guy named JD. The year was 2000 and high school was bustling. Because JD’s father or uncles never taught him how to talk to or treat women; he did what he believed was the right way to communicate with them. He always heard his female friends complaining about how some guys are jerks and treated them like crap so being the nice guy, he didn’t feel that acting like a jerk would be acceptable in the opposite sex’s eyes.

I never get why people would kill themselves.

So if you want to die, you obviously don’t give a shit. Like, about anyone, because if there is anyone who loves you, you don’t give a fuck about them, or hurting them and if there’s not, then there’s no one to give a shit about you.

When I was in high school, I never understood why girls my age were into older guys. Yea, blah blah blah they’re maturer, whatever, how many 18 year old girls do you know that are mentally mature? None. I’ve done a lot of reading and research and I’ve come up with The Decade Theory to explain my findings. Women are going to hate this, men are going to love it.

A few months ago I had a dream that death came to visit me. I don’t know much about death, but I know that a lot of people fear it. I used to fear it, well.. maybe I still do fear it– I’m not quite sure but I have respect for it? I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m not crippled by it and I can talk about death because it is inevitable. I want to believe that death is the end of this book called life and new one will start after. I like finishing books.

My very first bike was a 1987 Honda VF 500, also known as the Honda Interceptor. It was a first generation Interceptor that was leaps and bounds ahead in technology when it was first introduced. In 2003, the bike wasn’t anything to be bragging about. It was old, outdated, basically a classic that was my learner bike. In 2002 however, Honda introduced the sixth generation Interceptor now known as the VFR800. This was my dream bike, the bike that I wanted since I got my motorcycle licence back in 2003.

Today, I will be discussing the Scorched Earth Policy Regarding Ex-Girlfriends.

On Facebook, I saw that you had commented on Claire Doe’s photo of her and her daughter. Cute. Very Cute.

I never really thought about how important solitude was until my late 20′s.  Society says that we’re social creatures and anyone that doesn’t fall into that category is easily alienated. What a load of crap.

Am I the only one that absolutely hates texting?  I don’t mind receiving texts when it’s a quick message like “I’m outside.” or “Running late, be there in 5 minutes.”  Those kinds of texts are acceptable, but full on conversations about your life in 150 characters at a time?  I can’t do those.  Even using the wonderful world of Swype, which makes my life a lot easier when I do return texts but I can’t write paragraphs when a 30 second phone call is more efficient.