I can be the opposite of everybody. It takes more than just inactivity; there's really something about me I find weirdly fascinating. I have no permanent personality, no permanent dreams, no permanent talents, no permanent preferences, and no permanent set of friends. The contents of my biography would be too fickle for publication. One moment, I'm the little queen of my own world and the next, I'm alone in a crowd of characin fishes.
This is fascinating, definitely.
My life hasn't changed the way I want it to. I'm still sick of being scared of my favorite person. Last Friday was traumatizing. I did see my favorite person and she did thank me genuinely for what I did then but I was imploding with hate; the Paper Club is junk. The mods probably know it too. I still ask myself how I'd be able to get through approximately a hundred and fifty more Friday afternoons in the Paper Club. I can smell torture.
On the darker side of my current situation, my own commentaries regarding my life have slowed down. I haven't been journal-ing as much as I'd like to, and I haven't done anything I thought I would be doing by now, like asking my friends where the hell they all are because this day, as a whole, was pretty lonely for me. I've never quite gotten used to that.
So, are those words enough to make up my first post for August? Nothin' is exactly post-worthy. I know the organization and content of this post would get a zero if it were to be graded but I feel like sleeping. Right now. It's a Saturday night so I think I'm free to sleep at the time I'd will to. Tonight, it will be 9:30 PM. Goodnight and God bless.
This is fascinating, definitely.
My life hasn't changed the way I want it to. I'm still sick of being scared of my favorite person. Last Friday was traumatizing. I did see my favorite person and she did thank me genuinely for what I did then but I was imploding with hate; the Paper Club is junk. The mods probably know it too. I still ask myself how I'd be able to get through approximately a hundred and fifty more Friday afternoons in the Paper Club. I can smell torture.
On the darker side of my current situation, my own commentaries regarding my life have slowed down. I haven't been journal-ing as much as I'd like to, and I haven't done anything I thought I would be doing by now, like asking my friends where the hell they all are because this day, as a whole, was pretty lonely for me. I've never quite gotten used to that.
So, are those words enough to make up my first post for August? Nothin' is exactly post-worthy. I know the organization and content of this post would get a zero if it were to be graded but I feel like sleeping. Right now. It's a Saturday night so I think I'm free to sleep at the time I'd will to. Tonight, it will be 9:30 PM. Goodnight and God bless.
