Your past is written on your face

I very much dislike the idea that small scraps of good ideas drift across my mind, such as my blog titles. I like the idea of them, but I cannot grab hold of them and pull in the whole thing, so I am lost, grasping at the breezes that have already swept them away.
Today, in my opinion, was a hectic, stressful, up and down day. I, like many others, long for summer. To lie in the dewy grass and watch the stars, to smell the cool breeze. Going about in winter is a nasty business in which I do not like to take part of. No matter the warm clothes I am wearing, the terrible wind always finds a way inside my coat to seep into my bones and mutter words of death to my circulation.
We went to the store, which was uneventful and amounted to nothing. I pierced my ears today. The experience made me want to be sick, but I'm glad I did it. It gives me air. That is a terrible picture of me, but nevertheless, my ear.
I haven't much else to write now. All I wish is for the random depression to lay off. I hate this bipolar. I hate it. I haven't anything interesting to say. For that, I apologize, although I don't know who reads this. I feel alone, and I know thats just my feelings. I've lost another friend.