Or in other words, I am very disorganized. I was looking through my writing for the last hour or so and I have realized that most of what I have written recently (last year and a half) is really repetitive and mopey. They’re more like unsent letters, which is admittedly what I called them; or soliloquies. The time they’re usually written at is also representative of their quality, which is also quite embarrassing. As if the content itself wasn’t bad enough, the added factors of pain medication and other unholy items, the time of day, and my considerably turbulent moods really helped with the cringe level. Of course, I also did what I shouldn’t have done with these letters: AKA let them see the light of day AKA letting others read them. In other news, I’m never writing ever again.
Except for the fact that I have to write something for English next week, which is making me very apprehensive about everything. I really don’t trust personal narratives. It’s just an excuse to get me to write something sketchy.
I’m surprised with how I’m doing in my classes for the most part, though. It’s alright. The standstill feels like a pretense, however. Although I could just be paranoid. Stalemates are bad.
Anyway, hopefully things clear up a bit soon. Until then.