With your love, you could feed me.
(Following through on my ‘let’s use lines from songs I am listening to as titles for blog posts’ trend.)
I wake up here, and the first few moments are filled with dark thoughts, uncertainty and a reminder to take deep breaths.
I have forced all this confusion and discord on myself, and I am determined to learn something from it.
But, I am the queen of second guessing myself.
And I am notorious for making my life more difficult then it has to be.
Will these things ever change? I can’t actually say. But at least I am writing. Even if it is just in my journal and letters to people.
Back home I was hardly writing at all. I felt stifiled. I had ideas, I even had the time, but I simply could not do it. Now I can hardly stop myself from writing. It’s like therapy. Forces you to view situations objectively. Helps you to put your actions into perspective. Helps me understand how to express what I feel.
This place is strange, but I could come to call it home. I enjoy it’s atmosphere. There is an element of Carnivale in this town that appeals to me. (I know a few people who’d get a real kick out of it.)
The next time I update this blog, it will be with something more than my minds secret ramblings. It will be with something inspired.
And that is a promise.
