Well, he's unaccomplished.

Just a little over a month to go for another milestone, and I'm a little worried. Same old shit, but on a different night. So what's the problem?

Take my guitar away. Take away the songs I've serenaded you with, and lulled you to sleep with. Take away the words I've written on blogs even I don't read, in magazines you've never even seen. Take away the pictures I've taken that nobody's seen, and the sights I've seen that you've seen too. Take away the nights we've spent talking over the phone, at the party, at your house, at my house. Take away the kisses blown, thrown, missed, caught and even those returned. Take away the dick I've been and the friend I haven't. Take away the smokes I've borrowed and lent, the flames shared. Take away the songs I've introduced you to, the movies I've forced you to watch, the books I've asked you to read (though you never did). Take it all away. And everyone I know is exactly the same as before.

Yes, I know.  I'm going to get some fresh air. Soon as I wake up. (Quite the metaphor, eh? Unintended (Good song).)