Writing is weird.
One minute you are telling a story.
The next minute you are researching the average amount of snowfall Edinburgh gets.
or how to kill someone with a piece of barbed wire and a tomato
Or how much force it takes to dent a human skull with a can of Pepsi.
what the hell are you guys writing?
It’s weird being content. I know what I’m focused on: school, working, babysitting, moving, and getting ready for the move. I know who my friends are and I know where I stand. And it’s kind of strange being this content with everything, with life. I just spent 6 hours on homework, and I couldn’t feel anymore accomplished and happy about where I’m going in life and who will be there to support me. If you’re one of those people, seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. And someday, I hope I can return the favor. Night people.