I suppose I've always sort of been set on it, but I want to write a book. I mean, I'm sure I'm not as talented as authors are, and I don't doubt I'm not as creative as can be, but I enjoy writing, and that's what counts, right? Maybe not, but even if I have to write it myself ... I mean publish it myself, I'll do it!
I'm thinking of having different sections. Maybe I'll put things such as my blog posts on there. They can be interesting, I hope. But that's only one part. So, I think it'll just be more of an autobiographical book, but not really, but maybe. I'm not quite sure what entails an autobiography. But anyway, besides things like my blog posts, I'm thinking of having a section where I talk about my beliefs - a.k.a. philosophical views. Things like my thoughts. Maybe a couple of short stories or at least story ideas here and there. Maybe a couple of lists and aspirations. Maybe my bucket list - and if I become famous, there's a checklist next to it, or something like that. Maybe some definitions. Maybe some random tidbits about things here and there. Maybe a whole bunch of randomness.
Anyways, yes, I am going to write a book.
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So, also, I've just had a lot on my mind and it's still really hard to put pen to paper. Right now, I'm procrastinating (or am I, well, that's what it always is, I suppose). I could be writing a paper. I could be doing a quiz (which I actually might just do because it's only 3 questions anyway). I could be getting things done while I can... or I could go to sleep. I've yet to fill out my tax forms (they really should have a how-to for this for dummies like me). I've yet to do the FAFSA. I think it might be too late. That's lame. What am I by myself? Why am I lost? Why do I suck people into my downward spiral of a mind and of a life? Why do I have so many questions? Why do I get like this? Why am I lonely? Isn't this depressing? Man. What a life. What a life. People. People. People. I want to watch movies. Films. I think I shall be watching Pulp Fiction with one of my friends tomorrow. That's on the list of Best 250 Movies - which is of course subjective, but I don't mind. I looked through the list and I actually do want to watch a good portion of the films at least. Can I be creative? Why aren't I smarter? I don't think I did that well on my exam that I had today. I don't think I did my homework correctly. It's a group project and I feel like I'm going to let my group members down. I don't know what to do about that. Maybe someone will help me. Am I bad person? There's so many things going on in my mind. It almost hurts, but not really. Because I don't feel. That's a joke. I mean, I was talking to my one friend over spring break, and I feel like we were making progress with me and my being, but then I started acting weird after break ended. I blame myself. But then again, things are just weird. Maybe I'm just a weird person. Well, no, I really am a weird person. Do I make people feel weird? Do I really need to relax? How does one relax? What happens if I try smoking cigarettes? People say that it's addicting, and I don't doubt that, but I feel like I have enough will power to just up and try it and up and leave it. I mean, it really depends on my mood, but I don't think I've ever been addicted to anything. Then again, I've never really tried anything. I want a boyfriend. Hm. I'm broken. I think a lot. People are broken. People have friends. Do I have friends? Why doesn't anyone want to talk to me? Well, I guess it is a Friday night. I should get work done while I can. I wonder when I'm going to be hanging out with the friends I said I wanted to hang out with. I hope I can be friends with the people I want to be friends with. I think that almost happened today. I wore balloons. That was sort of a bad mistake. I didn't quite enjoy it. It was silly at first, but then I started getting paranoid and thinking about all the people looking at me. All the people laughing at me. All the people judging me. I'm fat. I'm so self-loathing. I am in a downward spiral. Why aren't I more artistic? Why aren't I good at anything. I apparently can talk really quickly and can talk a lot. I do enjoy talking. I enjoy writing. I enjoy being heard. Maybe. I'm so indecisive. Maybe I'm just ambivalent and apathetic. Which isn't a good thing. But that's me. I don't know. I don't know... What's wrong with me?
By the way, this wasn't even the half of it. Half of my thoughts are being screened right now. They either aren't appropriate, aren't fully developed, or what-have-you. Good day to you. Good night to you.
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