as i flip through the pages.

I've written roughly 100 blogs.

to be fair, a lot of them have been no more than a paragraph. a lot of them have been pointless drivel. a lot of them, from the heart. a lot of them never made it to the big show. they've seen me grow. physically, emotionally, spiritually, intelligently, and just about every way. they've seen the best of hope, the worst of despair. the best of me, the worst. the strongest, and the weakest. they've seen me post, only to take it away for feeling too whiny. there's been one who was tagged (bathrooms, life, love.) they've surprised me. the ones i feel really good writing, tend to slip un-commented. the ones i never feel as strong about, those are the ones everyone jumps on, and talks about. they're just words, but at the same time, they're so much more.

i guess i don't really have a point here. i thought i did. but i think i just needed to acknowledge that 1oo blogs later, this still means something to me.