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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Monday, February 15   >>


Life is hard. Really, really hard. As if things couldn't get any worse, I'm being forced (in a weird way) to move.

The struggle reminds me that I'm capable and alive.

It's okay. Things could be much worse. I always say that. "Things could be much worse."

Things could be much, much worse. I'm not in Haiti. I'm not poor, nor unemployed. I'm just being shifted.

You know, when, like, there's an earthquake in Simi Valley and a piece of debris ends up in Yemen. Just a little shift.

Now I can't tell if life is hard, or just really fucking weird. Life has pulled some cheap shots at me, and last weekend was just another in this series of punches.

Are we at round 12?


Fuck, we're on 11. That's fine. One more to go. I can do this. Even if I lose by scoring, I'll still be alive.

That's good enough.

I suppose this would be a great opportunity to post a song that somehow relates to how insanely crazy life has been in the past 6 months, but there really is no song that could come a million miles close to my experience.

I'll just write it myself. Me and ol' piano. Piano has been life support lately. Thanks, piano.