One day I’ll grow a mustache…fucking one day.
I’m too careless. I don’t put out enough effort. I’m tired.
These days, just trying to stay positive and make good decisions. People keep saying that I always seem like an angry person. hmm. I could understand that. I get caught up on things that, to me, seem very important. I guess most of the things I worry about really aren’t worthy of my time. I have to remind myself to be more patient. To be more open to new situations, and to put myself out there. I have to take care of things that beg to be taken care of. Fall always seems more cozy and inviting than summer. Winter still has to earn my admiration. I miss summer, and I try not to regret too much, but this past summer could’ve been more eventful. As always it comes back around to me. I make my decisions and I’m responsible for my actions. I have to start eating healthier, exercising, and looking towards the future with future with more positivity.
Currently working on a novel. I have a title I think conveys the overall message of the story. Excited to develop all the characters and situations and conflicts. Been telling myself id start this project for awhile now.
I wish i could hire some existential detectives.
Stressful people in my vicinity, throwing my Zen off track. I’m feeling the harm it’s doing. I can’t imagine being that stressed out about something so small. Superficial things triggering such effort into being in an overly stressed state. Rather, waiting for something to push you over the edge. Is trying to get the people around you stressed out the only thing you have left? What happened to spreading positivity?
I miss my friends. I don’t put enough effort into my friendships. I don’t know why, but I know myself enough that I can delve into it and find out. Is it me that’s holding me back or am I really a product of my own circumstances. Is my humble nature damaging to the life I’d like to lead. A lot of people say all they want to do is good. Why do people contradict themselves? Why do I sometimes write with the notion that someone I know will read it? Why does that hinder me? I don’t know any of you. I’m closed up and lost and misdirected with an overabundance of potential. On and on, and one day I will escape.