Angst

I tried to write today and couldn't get anything out, anything good really, and got frustrated. I have this dying feeling that I want to write something and feel that awesome emotion of things just flying off my fingertips, but it eludes me.

On a side note, my boyfriend is currently sleeping on my couch downstairs, totally knocked out from swimming today with my cousins. Haha. <3

On another side note, I feel frustrated and dissatisfied. I posted that as a status, and someone commented how angsty the statement was. Yes, angst. Oh, the word for our teenage years. But we should get angsty every once in awhile I think. It helps us figure things out, at least most of the time, if you know how to deal with it healthily.

I feel like I need something new in my life. Something that starts to change the things that I don't like into things I do like, something that will stop me from wasting time on things that don't matter and help me use more of my time wisely. It is just that at this point in my life, it is beginning hard to find out what is a wise use of my time and what is not. I feel like many things that used to make me happy and used to keep me going are now draining my energy and wasting my time, and I feel bad for thinking that, for feeling that, for feeling like I want to take what used to be special to me and toss it out of my life.

I know things change. I know I change. I know people change. For better or for worse. It is just hard to decipher it all, you know?

And I am beginning to find out how right my mother truly was, and it bothers me. She warned me that I would get worn out, and I have. I am worn out.

Start of Something New

The idea to start a blog came from talking to my boyfriend the other day about how I like blogging. I don't really expect people to read this. I'm not sure that I'm even writing it for other people to read (ironic since its being posted on the Internet), but I think that writing not only helps me get my thoughts out but also gives other people a chance to get to know me.

Today I started to think about how much a full time job really drains you. I hate coming home after a day's work and realizing that my day is pretty much almost over. There is no time to do anything. Ironically enough, I'm spending my after-work hours, now, writing this (sorta) pointless blog post.

I want to write. Today, I was listening to Disney music in the car, and I thought about how much I love the story of the Beauty and the Beast. I'd love to write an adaptation of that story. And I have another one in mind. I'm also supposed to edit a ton of short stories I worked on during the school year, but who has time?! Not me, obviously. Carlson is going to expect them done. Blah.

I wish writing meant something to people nowadays. There is so many forms of putting out written word nowadays that it almost doesn't mean anything to people. For instance, you post a blog post on the Internet amidst the other millions of blog posts, and what significance is it? Not much. You publish a book, even, among the millions of other books that have been published, probably 1% of them containing the same plot or purpose even. What significance is it? Not much. In the whole scheme of things, anyway.

Then why do I write? What is the significance of my writing? Not much. And I know that, and I'm okay with that. But I write anyway, hoping that I'm wrong.

I guess that is why I write this blog today. Maybe it'll be significant someday, to someone, somehow.