I look back at things-clothes, people, actions, etc.-and I have to ask myself...what was I thinking?

I'm sorry I ever called myself a party pooper.

I actually almost believed it. I might be boring. I can live with that.

But I'm not a party pooper.

So...I don't remember Eau de Urine wafting through any of my daycares. Nor do I remember nearly sweating to death in the Center-of-the-Sun temperatures.

I certainly won't be sending my children there.

I really hate being optimistic sometimes.

Good thing I went out and spent all that money last night (Yes, that was intended to be sarcastic.)

Cheers.

If you only knew what I am thinking...

Apparently, I have to be fluent in French. If I can speak German, all the better.

Oh, and I have to take chemistry. Organic and inorganic. That's gonna be spectacular. I'm sure you all remember just how much I loved chemistry. About as much as I loved calc.

That was one of the most disappointing things I've done in a while. I didn't hate to do it, as I would have expected. But it really just...sucked. It sucked.

I been writing this past week. A lot. And even though one thing completely fizzled out and the other consists of maybe 3 or 4 sentences right now, the fact is, I'm writing. And sketching. And doing things that make me happy. Even studying makes me happy. And that's saying something. No, I'm not crazy. God knows, I can be neurotic from time to time ( Read more... )

I'd like to be able to do something really kick-ass, just something that's really standout, even if it's just for me, and...I don't even know.

I just feel...

...stuck. Old. Tired.

I don't sketch anymore; rarely do I do anything crafty-ish...and God, I can't even tell you the last time I wrote something. I sit here, and I just can't feel it ( Read more... )

Why do I even fucking bother?

Why don't I just give up, right now?