Sometimes I feel like I tell my secrets to strangers. strangers can also mean those people in your life who arent really in your life but have been, or might be later on. I think I share with strangers because they dont really know me right now, but they have an idea, so it just seems less judgmental. I like to talk about all kinds of things and I would consider myself to be a very open person, but in some ways I'm very private. I have these ideas, or you might call them defense mechanisms against actually facing problems-that it's better for me to shell myself in various ways-go back to my room, go back home, dont talk, dont call, dont do anything really except wade in my own turmoil that ive created. sometimes I think I give excellent advice and I wish I would follow it. I think that honestly, I'm just afraid to grow up. Instead of being more adult I just kind of twist myself into scenarios or remain at a plateau because flat is familiar and comfortable. I'm terrified! I said it. and instantly my mind scolds me for thinking that because life could be so much worse. There's a boy I know who says I'm the only one for him. Ive heard it before yes, but I don't mean to cheapen his words there. I see in his eyes an intense sincerity that has peeled back some corner of my mind. right now im just thinking. the world is waking up, but im already awake. searching for something. I said I wasnt looking, but tell that to these sticky feelings inside. I want everything to be okay in the end. no, I want better than okay, but I know that its the struggle, the sticky, that makes all those moments of clarity and peace really exceptional. and if im happy I want to learn to really savor it because I know that moments are fleeting, because if at a constant it would be boring.
life is not boring for me. what else have you got, 2012?