gotta get out of here- gotta get out of here just for a couple of days. leave everything in its place. i know its gonna be here when i come back... but i gotta get outta just for a couple of days... leave everything behind. forget it all. thats all i really want. just to get away... just for a couple of days....

my feet are ugly. i am sorry they are ugly. if i could have pretty feet, i would... no i dont think i would give anything up to have pretty feet... but my feet are not pretty- not by anyone standards... and I am ok with that ....and i am ok with joking until i get hurt... and i dont take things to heart- and when i really do, you dont know it- i just play along---- making every feeling run into another so that you never really know exactly what i am feeling- i am happy when i am mad and mad when i am happy... sad when i am energeric and vice versa... so no, you dont know what i am thinking, and you dont know what hurts me and you dont know when i take things seriously... you do not know what i am thinking- so shut the fuck up

Securing a job for the summer--- trying to have the dream job... seems so hard to get though. Editing, being a rather competitive field mostly offers unpaid internships... i cannot do that, so i do not know what I am going to do or how I will ever get experience... we will see though- i am not going to stress yet...

I know that i want to write- I want to write this amazing novel...something that will be a classic one day... something that everyone will read-- that when they put it down, they will know that in some small way, thier life, their thinking has changed because of it... i want to write something that powerful... that able to make some one feel, - to make you feel...to make you contemplate everything... but right now, i do not even have a start on this work- i have no idea what or when words will come... but for some reason I have faith that they will one day...

I notice how little i really write for someone that has a goal so large... sure I write in here... but do I write things that really matter? when is the last time that i wrote something that wasnt this? I am so scared that maybe I do not have the skills or creativity to write- even now-- why have i not tried to sumbit anything to the lit mag? i havent even written anything to submit... or anything that i could pull to submit... what is this? there are some people who's skills and opinion in the area i hold in the highest reguard... but i wonder if what i write will ever live up to their standards or if when they encounter my reading, they will be disappointed... expecting so much more from me...

*sigh*

I want to describe how it feels to sigh... to sigh out of contemplation... how much you notice the rise and fall of your own chest, feeling the cold air go deep into your lungs... infecting you... not with more fear or worry, but the fresh air from an open window... so hopeful...making everything right- right with the world...