Friends come in many shapes and sizes. Sometimes we introduce people we barely know as friends and other times a friend cannot be defined by words. Thinking of a friend can make us smile or cry, sometimes enraged thinking, "why on Earth am I friends with this person?" It is always a roller coaster.

I am always in a state of constant evaluation in regards to my friends. I am always considering what it means to be a friend, in general and also to me, what I need from my friends, what I get out of the friendship, whether they are healthy for me or a bad influence. Sometimes it's hard to make the call. For instance, you're friends with someone for a long time, and, in some ways, they do a lot for you. However, they also are incredibly unhealthy for you to be around. They don't care about things that are important for you and they attempt to manipulate you into what they want to do, all under the guise of "good fun" or spending time with you. How do you go about a friendship like that? Where do the boundaries lie? When you are in a place where you have no one and all of your most important counterparts are miles away, can you really toss this person away? It is said that beggars can't be choosers, and when you're in a delicate situation you need to tread carefully.

Revisiting.

I have been revisiting my youth. It started earlier this year when I decided to download all of my favorite Disney animated movies. It also started innocently, I just wanted to refresh my memory. As I watched one after another a sense of nostalgia started to envelope me. I started to remember watching them as a child, how I felt when I watched them. I was experiencing the same emotions the same exact way as I did when I was a child. This puzzled me. A lot of growing has happened between then and now and I thought for sure that I would experience these movies on a higher plane of consciousness. But still the core emotion was the same. Now I don't mean the core emotions of happy, sad, etcetera; it's something more. Its as if when I experienced those emotions for the first time they left a finger print, and these new experiences matched that same exact fingerprint. It was like I had spun a web as a child and then spun the exact same web again. In a way it was terrifying. These were feelings I haven't had in years, and it felt great. I felt little beams of life creeping through the branches of the trees that were drowning in my swamp of a heart. I know that sounds a bit dramatic, but I really don't know how else to describe it. It made me wild and thirsty, and since I have been watching everything I can get my hands on that I watched when I was younger. As I view each show or film it's like I am finding myself and a boy that I lost a long time ago. I am crying as I think about it. I was realizing that I wasn't happy anymore, and I hadn't been for quite some time. I wasn't sure how I got there, I still am not. But I had the ghastly feeling it was self inflicted. I just have felt lost for so many, many years. I almost forgot the person I was, the person I am, truly. I have fought so hard, wars, to become a person I wanted to be, and in that fighting I lost my sun, my center from which all that I was to become was to be dependent on. I don't have the vocabulary to describe the hole, and how empty it was, that I became. Watching those films, it was more like watching memories, or home movies. They have now become my puzzle. As I watched each one, I saw how each one influenced me and each one was a piece of me. I knew I had these pieces but I had forgotten why they were pieces. The why is the most important part. But I was so obsessed with change and so obsessed with never being the things I didn't want to be and proving that I could overcome my various obstacles, but I lost in the end. I became a machine, which is exactly what I wanted to be, and what I needed to be at the time. But now I am tired of feeling the chill of metal and the grinding of gears. I just wanted to feel love again and for the longest time I was obsessed with it. I thought I loved myself and the love I was looking for was from a partner. But I was too scared to admit that I hated myself. I hated myself because I lost myself, and my light. I killed myself, and have been living as a zombie. I don't know why. Maybe it was for other people this whole time, and I just didn't realize. Or maybe all the choices were the right ones and I just needed to fall apart to put myself together again. The answers are in the film, the pieces. I feel it all reconnecting.

"Boxes of Distinction"

April 16, 1976

Dear Mr. & Mrs. John Scala:

Being the type of people with an insight towards the future to acquire plots for your eternal rest. I feel at this time you must be ready to think about your interment. We now manufacture a new line of outer boxes, for people like yourselves. We call them the Two in One or the Togetherness Box. It can be made so that you can both lie side by side or one on top of each other. Whatever will be more comfortable.

So no there is no need for that old saying, "Till death do us part." We also can make them available in time payments, a sort of pay as you go box.

If you should choose to wait a little longer to prepare yourselves, we will also be manufacturing a box built for three. That will be for the ones who like to take a friend along. These boxes will be a great success for people as horny as you. So before you cast this letter aside, please write us for your price list.

Yours in Life,

Mr. Edmund Young

President

EY:sy

So I decided to make another blog. I laid to rest my old blog, Transmogrify, a long time ago. Now I feel it's time for something new. I can't say I will keep up with this blog, but it's good to know that somewhere in cyber space I have a place of refuge. I like to name pretty much everything that comes into my life, except apparently cats. For this blog I chose the name "Jets Revving." I felt it symbolizes the place I am in right now. Imagine that scene from "Cast Away," after the plane crashes. Tom Hanks is floating in a sea filled with debris and you hear this howling, the whirring of the dilapidated jet engine taking its final breaths of wet, salty air. Revving in the dark, gasping.