Hello. This post is heavily self-centered.
Please understand that I do not consider myself a writer, nor am I riddled with self-pity or monumental troubles. I believe there is a lot of stigma attached to blogs and it will most likely be hard to kick myself into this, any variation on a diary entry comes close to making me cringe, but I have so much to say and nowhere to release it. I'll be posting here for as long as it is convenient, as long as I am interested.
There is an about me section but I'm hesitant to go into detail there, I don't want to see it every time I open this page.
I think a lot but unfortunately I am far too concerned with people and my own situation, some of my most sincere appreciation is for those whose imagination reaches beyond what is immediately near to them. I couldn't tell you how I appear as my perception of myself is probably totally warped just as everyone else seems to be. My voice is soft, my sentences cut short more often than not. I wish I was a very different person; that I was openly happy and welcoming. My mood fluctuates pretty strongly, my happiness is heavily reliant on the people in my life. Lately I have been down, doubtful, unwilling to repair myself; lazy. I live with my mother, it may seem brutal or cold but I don't often think about my father, he barely matters and I've not seen him in near a decade. I am surrounded by a lot of people and lucky to be so, some of them are so important and it feels like they are everything.
It's late (2:08am) and I don't care to continue this 'about me', goodnight.
