I was thinking this as I watched the beginning of what turned out to be a rather strange movie.
There is a mystery about contented loneliness.
It begs me to discover its secrets.
Taken on the *Washington* coast.
I am not good at writing consistently, if you've been here before you're aware of that. I started writing this post a couple weeks ago, and am only now returning to it.
I'm just not sure what to share. There are thoughts but they seem to melt away when I try to write them.
My third grade english teacher told me that I did write my thoughts in order, and told me i should try to group similar ideas in the same paragraph. And there began my tendency towards fragmentation. Word is constantly alerting me that what I just left as a sentence is actually a fragment. All of that is said to explain why I am not bothering to make this post flow, its fighting nature, and today Smokey just isn't up for it.
The last couple days I've been watching a lot of Meekakitty on youtube.
Watching too much youtube makes me question my identity, yet gives me ideas and hope at the same time.
I fly home (back to school) in a couple days. I'm quite looking forward to reading on the plane.
Currently I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray I'm not too far in because I didn't want to finish it and have nothing left to read at the airport.
Once I get to school, I am excited that my Pre-Ordered copy of The Fault In Our Stars is waiting for me (along with the need to purchase an all too expensive business textbook, rahrg). So I suppose I should hurry to finish Dorian Gray before then, or it shall be postponed.
Being around my family this break has reminded me of why I want to write a book someday. Oh the hopes and dreams.
Thank you for reading.