Today I sat down and wondered about why I'm alive. Nothing too complicated, not the meaning of life, or why humans don't have telekinesis, just why I can breath and think and speak and exist. What does that mean to me? What can I do with it?

I've come to the same conclusion I always do— I haven't a bloody clue. But thinking about it always makes me, at the very least, content in the knowledge that I do exist, and therefore have plenty of time to find the purpose of said existence.

My father and I had a very civil conversation the other night on the subject of my independence. I was pleasantly surprised by how well the discussion went actually. I expected a great deal more volume. As it was, I really have to respect what both my parents have told me in response to my decision. From my mother, "You need to grow up and learn to make sacrifices," and from my father, "I support you but want you to be making decisions based off your values. Not mine, not your mother's, not your friends'— yours." Ah, I suppose I should explain the decision shouldn't I? Silly me, always telling stories backwards.

I've decided to move out, most probably in February of 2010. I have also decided to transfer from SFSU next fall, to a private college most probably on the East Coast. Surprised? I hope not. If you know me at all you'll know that I've never been content to stagnate in the same place I've lived for the past 18 (nearly 19) years. And finally plans are in motion.

I'd write more explanation, but to be honest I don't have much more to say on the topic that could be coherently presented. I also have a research paper to write. So for now I'll bid this post adieu, and return to share more later.