For Real This Time

Okay, well if you’ve read my last blog you probably understand how much of a basket-case that I am. Does anyone say basket-case anymore? I’m only 18, why am I talking like I’m 50?

On a serious note:

I can’t help but feel like everyone else’s life is coming together, but I can’t even begin to figure out where to start with mine. Just in the past month, I’ve graduated high school, moved houses, and had a complete revelation about life in general.

Then I log into Facebook, I see that some of my friends and family are engaged, getting married, going to school to do awesome things, moving out of their parent’s house, and just becoming more independent.

I can’t seem to figure out what I’m doing or who I am. I’ve never really had an identity crisis before, but I think that this is it. I have an idea of what I want to do, but I don’t know how to go about saying “I just want to write” without sounding completely unmotivated. What do I want to do with the rest of my life?

I’m not very talented when it comes to anything. I’m not very smart, I’m not very good with numbers or memorization. Shoot, sometimes I can’t get myself out of bed before noon. I guess I am pretty unmotivated. I just don’t know what to do.

Completely Lacking in Consistency

     Well, I said that I would keep blogging and I failed. I haven’t posted on here in what seems to be decades. Boy, have some things changed. That’s life, right? Well… It sucks. It’s so hard to keep up with anything anymore. I can’t even keep track of what the date is.

     Recently I’ve been reading these books written in diary format. They’re the diaries of real people and their lives. It sounds dumb, but I can’t stop reading them. Why is reading about someone else’s life so interesting to me? If I wanted to be philosophical about it, I would say that I read them because it takes me away from my life for a bit. It allows me to tune into someone else’s feelings instead of focusing on my own. It’s so easy to just get lost in the writing of someone else…just to experience what it would be like to live someone else’s life for a bit.

     Well, enough of that. What I was getting around to saying is that those books have inspired me to take a new approach to blogging. Maybe if I blogged like it was a diary, I would write more. Just to write anything will help me develop tone and technique. I need to force myself to do this every day… or at least once a week. This is probably a bigger commitment than I think. I can do it!

Now that I’m done writing this incredibly long prologue to a seemingly pointless blog, I’m going to write something for real this time.

Wish me luck.