Well folks, hello again.

…

This past winter break has been… unhappy. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching; but not a whole lot of soul-finding. The only thing that scares me more than hiding out in my house by myself is going back to school, and having to face all the complicated drama of schoolwork (and missing assignments), friends that hate each other, facing a certain someone, and actually having to get dressed and look presentable (no more staying in my pajamas until four in the afternoon and waking up only three hours before that.).  But that’s not all. No longer can I simply sit around by the computer all day, pretending that no world other than that of  the Yu Yu Hakusho episodes I’m watching exists. No longer can I simply stand around by the fridge whenever I want, eating whatever I want. Basically, no longer can I act like a lazy bum. :-/

But, on the upside, I get to be with my friends again, and away from my family 7.5+ hours of the day.  Definitely an improvement.

…

Ooh, a new year.

I actually haven’t made any resolutions. It’s not that I don’t have things I’d like to do; but rather I know that telling myself to do something just because would be pointless. Either I want it or I don’t; either I’ll work toward it or I won’t. No dumb resolution is going to change that.

It’s strange; January’s my favorite month of the year;, but it’s also the most stressful and depressing month for me (well, at least it HAS been in the past few years). Where, oh where, is that beautiful, peaceful, and calming snow that should most definitely be here by now? It’s pretty enough as it is outside, but usually, I’m in too crappy of a mood to truly appreciate it.

How the fuck did I get to be so sullen and cynical anyway? …Maybe it’s the stress from all the schoolwork I haven’t done. I don’t WANT to do it; and yet knowing that it’s hanging over my head makes me tense, too.  A kind of double-edge sword, if you will.

…

Sometimes I wonder if this stubborn, hopeful feeling of love is all that’s keeping me going. Even though I know it’s pointless, I can’t help but thinking that if there’s some slim chance he actually cares about me, then everything will be alright.

Then again, every time I think that, a new phrase comes to mind; Jim Morrison’s quote, “Love cannot save you from your fate”. …So does it matter, then? Does it really matter if he loves me back? Sooner or later (and likely the former of the two) my world’s going to come crashing down on me like the inevitable rain. Talent can only get you through life to a point; then comes all the hard work; all the hard work that I can’t seem to put out.

…

*Sighs*.

I can’t do it. I could do it. I won’t do it.

I need to do it.

It? What do I mean by it?

Live. Really, truly live. Not just sit around, ignore the world and let life pass me by. I have to PRODUCE.

And if I keep procrastinating, I’m likely going to find that I’m OLD and that it’s too late. Maybe it already is.  …When I’m dead, it won’t really matter. But I’m not ready for death. Nor am I ready for life.

I’m a mess.