The Candid Nature of the Sea Anemone

Though I haven’t written anything in here in pushing six months, for some reason I am strangely compelled to visit and see if OD’s still got it, that is, the intangible allure (read: ego masturbation) which kept me coming back in my late teenage formative years. It might, but to be quite honest, disregarding the cosmetic changes, OD is nothing like I remember it.

Pretty much every friend I had on here doesn’t write anymore or deleted their diaries. Or they moved to Livejournal/Myspace/afrodiary/whatever the fuck people are doing these days.

Myself, I do most of my writing for N-Sider.com now, and that’s not entirely autobiographical all the time anyway. I torment Jessica (see: Kissed) on a daily basis, only in person, now, and Diana’s off living with her boyfriend or something quite far away from wherever she was when we’d talk about that guy Nate and how they shared earphones in her classes or whatever and she was “Shiznit Bizkit,” a marked misnomer that will forever live on as evidence that she was indeed somewhat influenced by LIMP BIZ-KIT (though my own devastating musical tastes of the past can’t be a whole lot better than that).

Babs, who I only met through association, seems to post now and then, but Glo and Anda are nowhere to be found. Rebecca’s only on AIM and maybe she writes at some other place but iunno. Remember her and Evan? I DO!

I feel like it’s Dawson’s fucking creek or something and I’m looking back at all the things that happened in seasons one through three.

Isn’t it funny how things you never really knew you had get away from you?