HOME

I've wanted to start a blog for quite a while now. I have so much to say, yet so few people to share it with. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of friends, or acquaintances as I like to call them, I just don't trust anyone really. I don't really care if anyone reads this or not, but I’d like to talk I suppose, or write. I've always been fond of writing, and I’m actually an aspiring writer, even though I’m terrible at it. 

I’m back home for the summer, and that in itself has caused me a lot of stress over the last few weeks. I also discovered that I can’t type properly, I apparently used to type with six fingers. There’s also the issue of a couple of friends breaking up, or not. They keep changing their minds, and I’m sick and tired of it. They’re not right for each other, I know it, they know it, everyone freaking knows it, but they won’t take the initiative and call it quits. This is why I believe in divorce more than marriage. Another reason why I’ll die alone!

I've been thinking, I've come a long way since last year (my suicidal days), but what happens if I go back to that. I’m not exactly happy, but I’m in a good place. Can I handle a relapse? I'm writing again, but the drive is the money again, and I thought I was better than that. Over the last year I've wanted to publish my first novel because I wanted to change the world, I didn't care about the money. Now I’m caring about the money for some reason, and I think that's wrong. I want to prefect it, because it deserves to be perfect. I want people to see it as I see it, a masterpiece. I know you're probably laughing, but I believe in this story. I've been writing it for a few years now, and as I grow older it ages like a fine wine. This book is the only thing that's been there for me, the only stable thing, and in my worst it was the light in the end of the tunnel. It was the hope of a better life, not just financially, but because I’d redeem myself. I would worth something, despite what everybody thinks. 

Being here makes me feel like I haven’t changed, when in reality I’m not the same person I was last year. I've been here two weeks, and I’m already dying. How will I survive the next few months here?