How Angels Ought To Smell

Hey Internet, it's been a while.

My last post was made in April. After that, it sort of felt like nothing made any sense and there was no point to updating because the only things I'd have to say would be depressing, boring, or whiney. So I called myself a whaaaambulance and went off the face of the Earth, it would seem.

I had every intention of updating this blog again once this semester started. Had.

Mostly because I wrongly assumed that things would work themselves out over the summer, and that I'd be able to function properly this time.

Summer used to fix everything. Summer used to be a time for me to re-invent myself, or what have you. Oops.

I did actually manage to completely change myself. Just not during the summer. And not to my liking this time.

I've become a smoker. I do stupid things. I stayed relatively lazy, and now it's just getting worse. My self esteem is at an all time low, and I have little to no faith in the things I do or the relationships I make. Nothing makes any sense to me and I really don't care any more.

So why continue with these changes? Probably because I'm self destructive.

Also because for the first time in my life, I actually lack any form of direction.

I stopped being a hardcore gamer. I don't even drool over releases anymore. I can't focus on it.

I have the job I wanted, but it's going nowhere. I work for what I consider to be a dying student-run campus news publication, and I see no plausible way of bringing it back to life. And honestly, it doesn't concern me in the least. I don't care about news anyway. I'm a pretty awful journalist like that.

I'd rather go back to being a short-fiction creative writer than a hard-lined ace reporter. I don't care what other people think, and I probably never will. That might sound stuck up, and that's most likely because it's stuck up to say. Oops.

So yeah, that's that. I can't coherently or willingly stay on topic, apparently. My thoughts are as all over the place as my notebook that literally says "This book belongs to a right brained journalist/artist. Not a crackhead. Sorry.", and I write in spirals and upside down and then box in thoughts in that book. It's unreadable to anyone but me, and sometimes I don't even know what it' says. Again, oops.

The only thing I can actually coherently think about is how destroyed I feel about the fact that I need to move out of my room because my roommate is being an un-cooperative, creepy son of a bitch. I don't feel safe with him being there, and I'm pretty sure he wanted me to get so pissed about the way he behaves that I'd move out. This is what happens when you get stuck with a random. They turn out to be shitty people. Almost always.

Fuck it here's a list.

Putting my life back on track, or the goals and process of doing so:
1) Read books again
2) Write stories and plays again
3) More Zelda, that seems to cheer me up
4) More Kingdom Hearts, fucking love that shit
5) Beat The World Ends With You. Neku's my boy
6) Finish Pokémon Type Ghost
7) Re-start a professional blog that I tried to boot up last year but failed miserably.
8) Do my homework
9) Be proud of myself and the things that I have done
10) Wake up before 2 pm.

Yeah, fuck it. I hate everything.

I am boring, I am bland, I am nothing.

I am exciting, I am entertaining, I am important.

New Found Glory wrote a song called "Hold My Hand" back in 2006. I don't know why, but it's stuck in my head.

That and some other pop-punk.

Fuck.