With every word,
I get even happier.
It’s how life should be.
I have written so much stuff recently. I’ve been improving on my college essay (I chose that Garfield one), I’ve been writing my mind in school through every assignment, I’ve started to write long heartfelt messages to my friends, and above that, I’m still maintaining my blog. Really, I am.
When a friend gets depressed, it gets me thinking. Like my psychology teacher would state, the feeling of pensiveness is a form of sadness, therefore my pensiveness could be seen as sympathy. But with every word I write, I become happier, because I know that it’s one more word that I’m letting go and setting free. It’s so great to be able to write about what I feel, and I can put those thoughts into any prompt I’m given – it’s getting to the point where I feel joy at the mention of an essay.
OKAY THAT WAS JUST CRAZY I CAN’T BELIEVE I SAID THAT.
Yet again, as you can tell, even through writing this, I’m straightening more and more out. It’s because I don’t have much of an inner monologue – no matter how much I am involved in, most of my energy is spent unconsciously observing, and learning about the world around me – and through writing, I learn more about myself.
I love these sudden urges I get to write – they’re coming more and more. So bear with me, as there is no point to this which I’m writing right now. The words are just replacing what could be there if I restrained myself for too long, like “BLAH BLAH NOTHING TO SAY ARGH I’M BORED.” I keep changing what I enjoy doing – it was comics, then music, then comics, then music, and now comics, but my comics nowadays have massive potential for good writing, and I’m implenting this writing all over.
So yeah, writing is fun, and you should never stop doing it, whatever you’re preoccupied with.
And I reiterate – there is no freaking coherent point behind this blog.