it seems like an eternity has passed since i last took the time to write. i am finding out that as each day passes in which i no longer write, i end up missing it more and more. at the end of each day i yell at myself for not writing – as if i am missing a piece of myself each time i refuse to write.
not too much is happening in my life besides long hours at my waitressing job and monotonous routine of going to class and catching busses and beating city traffic. the leaves are falling and changing and the days are becoming shorter and life seems to be going by way to fast. but it always does, and it seems as though it always will.
i turn twenty one in a three short weeks, and i have no idea how i got here and how strange it will be to order a margarita at my favorite mexican restaurant in the short north. it’s the little things that make life more exciting.
i have been reading a lot lately – four books in two short weeks. two of those books being the same, so maybe it doesn’t count as four new ones. into the wild was a phenomenal book and i devoured it whole and soaked up all it’s precious words and cried at the story behind them. my life was changed.
i am tired and it’s a saturday night and my room is cold. i moved into my older brother’s old bedroom, and it’s walls are green and although i have been sleeping inside it’s walls for the last month, this room still feels foreign.
it is 10:08pm October 19, 2013 and i am happy. i am content. this is bliss.