Gob: ....I'm the eldest! The first born! The matriarch if you will...
Michael:...sure. I will

There are basically two kinds of people. Those who love Arrested Development, and those who don't.
I can't really categorize the kind of humor they present, but it is awesome. I am so glad its coming back and Netflix decided to extend it even before they've aired it.

That is how awesome the Bluth family is. And yes, they've made many huge mistakes. 

... of music that melds with the soul ever so smoothly. Like two colours so luxuriously mixing until they become something entirely new, which paints a picture so sublime it connects to your sensibilities on a primal level. It is so beautiful that it becomes the very air that breathes life into you. You stand rooted to your spot, and for once, you want to be in that moment forever, taking it all in, all over again...

It was my first ever live music experience. By the end of it, I felt a strange peace envelope my soul. Like it'd eaten a whole pack of mints. It was a lovely, welcoming change. For once.
I guess watching your favourite artistes perform live does that you. Needless to say I'm going every year from now. Alone or otherwise.

How did it change me? I don't know. How did it influence me to do what I am setting out to do? I don't know. Putting things into words haven't been impossible for me. The laziness did make quite tiresome, but it wasn't impossible. But now...

I suppose somethings are better left undescribed.  

incomplete poetry

Revisiting the dark halls of my dispossessed mind,
a strange peace fills me instead of the signature chill down my spine.

There are no horrors left here,
one by one I'd slowly faced every fear.

I kicked aside ashes from the fires of cruelty that once plagued this place,
with every pile I pass, a slow scowl forms itself on my face.

There was a nasty smell. It was distant but clear,fading yet strong, like the toll of a church bell.
It was the stench of desperation, of dead dreams. A wasteland.

Once there a was a war here. Between the guardians of my sanity and the minions of fear.
But today, all that remains is charred.

Although indifference was my tool,
it wasn't enough because they took me for a fool.

And now, after years of hatred being fed,
The poison refuses to leave, staying behind like lead.

It's easy to pick out the rigidity and fluidity of a piece of writing. You feel it when you read it. When its fluid you know its easy to accept, easy to see it from your perspective, regardless of its complexity. Rigid writing is like having dinner without gravy. Hard to swallow. I can't believe I never paid to attention to such a small yet important detail. 

Better late than never.