This has been one of those nights where I believe my idea of a brain recorder would have come in handy. I've been dying to get to my laptop for the past fifteen minutes, but now that I'm here, each careful thought has just about escaped me.

So, I had a ghost from my past pay me a visit. I sat across from him looking at how much he has changed compared to my memory of him. I wondered what his memories were of me. As we traded stories and caught up, I hated retelling my life and all that has come to pass in it. I fear judgment too much. Yet, I'm always intrigued by others. I felt horribly disappointed in myself.

I think I was "caught" misusing two words. Okay, one didn't really count against me, and the other was definitely in question. So, naturally, I went running to a dictionary. The main one in question that sent my heart racing for fear of stupidity, I don't think I misued. Perhaps, I didn't use it in its best meaning, and maybe it wasn't the most perfect fit, but damn I hate being called on something like that. The fear that I sound stupid is constantly running through my head. To hear someone out me like that makes me wonder how much else I have said potentially wrong, and the person has just let it slip. If that's not enough pressure to keep from ever talking, I don't know what is.

And I had much better things floating through my brain on the drive home. I believe in writing in the moment. If the moment escapes me, I usually can't capture it again.

"Times have changed, and times are strange. Here I come, but I ain't the same."