Sometimes you like to scream things from the top of your lungs. You know that feeling, when you’re standing on top of a mountain, watch down on the world, arms stretched and a heart so heavy ‘cause you loaded it with dreams and hopes, counterweighted by fear? It’s been like that for the last few days. There’s a light that never goes out. That one is stuck in my head, and was it really Christmas 2009? I wonder.

For the past year, I’ve been sending out messages, broadcasts every day, silent little hints and tips and anything that could’ve grasped that heart. I’ve been reading this blog again, watching back to dates that stretch far beyond last month. It’s strange to notice how you can dig the deepest of ditches, covering yourself in dirt and mud while doing it. I did it, it’s like Spencer Chamberlain once wrote: ‘Anyone can dig a hole, but it takes a real man to call it home.’ And while digging, I forgot what Morrissey once wrote with the boys in the Smiths: ‘There’s a light that never goes out.’

I promise. I won’t let this light go out this time. I’ve been an awful person, let’s make things better from now on. Second chances are for the best, not the worst.