I am never, ever up this late. I’m usually sound asleep by now, but the thunder outside decided to alternate between the sound of a gong and gunshots. The rain has stopped now. It’s quiet in the house. There are some crickets singing, the refrigerator is humming, and my computer is making soft whirring noises. All in all, perfect conditions to go to sleep to. And yet, I am still awake and probably will be for another hour.
I don’t know what I want to do here. I’ve seen where other people who seem to have their lives together have a blog like this. They just send their thoughts into the void that is the internet and that’s it. Nothing complicated.
I enjoy writing. I mean, dang, I’m a finalist in a writing contest where I get to meet some amazing authors and do all kinds of writing things. Does that make me a writer? I don’t know. But I need a release. I need a place to go that my parents can’t just happen upon. A place where I don’t feel like the death of the tree I’m writing on was in vain. Maybe I’ll write the next great American novel, or just talk to myself on the internet. Whatever this becomes, I’m going to be myself. And hopefully let go of some things.
I should probably go to bed, but first I need to figure out how to get the random default image of raspberries off of here.
It’s almost 3 now. Eh, I’ll keep the title.