Life Advice: Listen to Tim, Volume 2

by Nic Olson

You may remember a passage from the date of Friday, November 16th, 2007 where I advised you to listen to the advice of a certain man. A man that you would think is under thirty, but is narrowly over it. (it is Tim McMillan. I hate when people have links to other sites that you have to check in order to understand the blog. I hate that. I do it often.)  The passage itself actually had little to do with the man himself, but still was great advice, to listen to his advice.
Recently he advised me to go to university for Creative Writing, if that’s even possible. So that is what I’m going to do. I have enrolled for the fall semester at the University of Regina, so I can broaden my horizons of creatively writing, and making my blog that much more enjoyable, just for you.
No.
Blogging is one of the more awkward things that I can think of. I remember when blogs were first started, before they were called blogs and they were called ‘LiveJournals’ and whoever had one of those was a serious headcase. I have read through every single one of my blogs since I began on the Myspace blog five years ago, and things have changed. 
They began as just a daily update of what I did, always lacking direction and awfully constructed. 
Then I began to ‘think’ more obscurely, realizing that blogging is weird, writing blogs that had little to do with anything, but I tried to relate them to the world.
Then I began to write straight forward passages about topics that affected my audience. Usually crude, rude, unacceptable, not politically correct, or so punk rock, that everyone had to love them. This was also around the India trip, when my bloggage peaked.
In the phase I’m in now, I sometimes write artsy blogs that have to be interpreted, like those who once wrote ‘LiveJournals’. I always hated that kind of writing, but now admittedly, I almost slightly enjoy them. Oh how the world changes, and how the blog of a young man can grow. Grow into a young spring blossom, urging the dew to lay upon its bosom, and to reach into the scent that is lavender and jasmine.
So, this blog hit it all. An update, a straight forward talk about a topic that effects you, and now here’s the art in me. Interpret this poem I wrote, please. Try to understand the inner workings of a messed up young adult. Relate with me. I am crying out for your attention. Read it. It’s pretty straight forward, or so you’d think.

One and two, but don’t forget that code.
Not even a tone that CSI could decypher.
Just makes me realize
the skeleton-like cell phone plan that I am.

Wait, what? Say that again
Muffled advice that I should have taken years ago
‘Please Try Again’ / ‘Don’t get your hopes up’

Move on and let static life hiss
But it’s impossible for me. Static sucks and moving on hurts.

I’m just riding a bicycle for two.