i spent half of Christmas eve with my family. the other half, i spent with a very close friend in the ER while he drooled/bled out the face into a a long bag that looked like a horse-condom. scrapes all over his lower face, split lip, about two teeth shattered, one looking like its bags are packed and its moving out.

i walked in knowing he'd been in a bad bike wreck, and that while he was hungry at the time... i don't think he had intended to eat the curb the way he did. as he sat in the wheelchair, hunched over and looking fairly miserable, i just sat in front of him and couldn't help myself but ask if all he wanted for christmas was his two front teeth. jordan, brittany, and i all erupted into laughter. hanging strands of blood and drool shook from the bag to his face, and his newly renovated arrangement of teeth shined under the florescent waiting room lights. she told me it was the frist time she'd seen him smile all night.

this is the only way i know how to deal with my problems, my friends problems, right or wrong, no matter how bad. i generally don't handle situations seriously, no matter how hard i try. sometimes in an unfortunate situation, all you can do is find something to laugh at and lighten up as best you can.


merry christmas indeed,
-cavan

Current Location: prine estate, by way of ORMC

i'm shitty




lets be reckless and throw our hearts sight unseen into the gauntlet. we'll get over anything and everything eventually. getting hurt should be expected. i've got band-aids, stitches, surgical tape, and gauze. scars make for good stories anyway, so why all the precaution?

Current Location: Prine Estates
Current Mood: whatevs

So the epic year is coming to a very mighty close. For one of the first times I can collect from my memory, I feel as if I am beginning to understand what growing up means. After years of collapsing beneath the weight of comfort and stagnancy, my eyes are spreading to the true colors and true nature of the people we encounter in life. As an impressionable fifteen year old, I finally found an escape from home. I was introduced to a group of friends that handed me a world I could have never imagined. A planet of angst, obscure observation, painful interactions, and very quick judgement. Through this residential transition, I somehow managed to stand out as a scholar, even as a 2.8 unweighted GPA with a 1090 SAT score. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I wore tight jeans or shirts with obscenities on them. Or maybe it was something as trivial as being one of the only student body to have a visible tattoo at a such a young and tender age. Perhaps it was my ability to break down and analyze each class I partook in, which lightly reflected that I enjoyed learning. To a teacher I feel like the greatest satisfaction they can attain is knowing that you have influenced someone to learn, to grow their brain to something great. Whether it be four students out of a class of thirty, that is four students who will look back and remember you as something positive. In the new scene I was introduced to, I found people who were teaching me. They did not know, and may never have the slightest clue. These are people I thank so dearly from the deepest trenches of my heart, people I respect. I say people because I am referring to some individuals who are no longer a part of my life. Be it death, spite, or because of simple separation to grow (i.e. University, Military, Travel, etc.)...some people are gone. It happens. Sometimes for good, sometimes for bad, but often for progression. Growing in a new found family of sex addicts and life-gamblers, I felt like I was on the right path. I had it all, gorgeous high school sweetheart, a job that paid me really well, an amazing group of brothers, and parents who I knew cared. None of it was handed to me, which is part of the extraordinary feeling of putting yourself on top of the world. Sounds narcissistic as could be, but it is far from that. From the education given to me through the years, I was able to gather that every single individual lives in their own world. The world I live in, is what I make of it. I am walking an atlas of obstacles and boundaries, some of which simply cannot be passed or moved. Other people are making their own maps, different personal obstacles, different opposing social boundaries.

Two thousand and nine started off a very cold one for me. Don't ask me what the weather was like either, I couldn't and wouldn't tell you to save my life. I found too much adhesiveness to the shit year trailing out my asshole. All it took was for me to divert my attention to a more positive outlook, a more me outlook, a more "what I need" outlook. I really needed to travel. It was something I longed to do, since I was rarely given the chance as a child/teen. First stop...Philadelphia. I fell for her. Philadelphia is where I would like to be balls deep right now, even in the bowels of her currently frosty breath. But Philadelphia is not what I needed. The same problems lurking around me in Orlando, would certainly carry with. Money don't come from nowhere, and I'd like to go back to school. Sorry babe, you're fun to visit and fun to ride...but I can't stay long.
Back home for an excellent Florida summer.
Summer came to a strong close and I found love. Got blindsided by it actually. I could not remember the feeling I felt, prior to August. For the first time since what I thought would be the last, I was on top of the world. Months go by and I'm living the working man's struggle. And I'm getting by. By the skin of my teeth and the translucent hairs on my arms...I am getting by, and about to get ahead. I am not falling off of my peak, merely hanging on and doing pull-ups right now. I have an everlasting playlist of songs to my life, on shuffle playing through the drums of my head and the beat of my feet when I am riding through the Central Florida midnight streets.

This year was a very mighty year, and it is coming to an epic close. No one has to explain themselves if we are in our own worlds