I wonder.

I wonder if this is really what they meant in school when they mentioned "the real world." It doesn’t seem so real. Then again, it doesn’t seem very unreal either.

I’ve been having trouble discerning what’s normal and what’s not lately. Perhaps it’s because I’m not so normal myself. Perhaps not. Anyway..everything has been such a blur of gray to me. There are things that make me happy, and things that distress me, but nothing is shockingly and alarmingly important at this moment in time. There’s laundry that needs to be done, but it’s not immediate. My hair is starting to curl in the back, but I don’t need a haircut quite yet. I could stand to lose a few pounds, but there’s no hurry. I should start applying for colleges, but money hasn’t come through financial aid yet..(and..as a previous commenter noted, I’m apparently afraid to face reality..)

I spend my time these days staying up late, but not too late. I eat, but not anything much, or anything horrible. I do mundane tasks for hours and hours to achieve an empty sense of fleeting accomplishment just to pass the time. Even these diary entries..I write, and show the diary to people, but they seem to just look once and forget it exists. Life just seems so..in the middle. Nothing is good, however..nothing is bad either. Maybe it could be looked at as a clean slate. Or maybe, it could be looked at as my plan, unexciting existence deteriorating. 

I’m not even sure anyone reads these anymore, except maybe the occasional Front Page passerby, or one person who tends to check up on the diary every week or so..Hi Greg. I put up a site traffic meter on the front of the diary a few months ago, but I think it’s broken.

Anyway. I was thinking about attempting National Novel Writing Month again this year. NaNoWriMo, for short. I tried last year, but I ended up overwhelming myself. I’m not feeling enthusiastic about it, but I’m also eager. It’s not completely disregarded, but it’s still a tough challenge. I don’t have any ideas whatsoever this time, and last year I’d written four pages worth of notes and plot points to kick it off. Oh well..I don’t know how many further entries I’ll be writing from here on out. I might love writing, but then again, it doesn’t seem like anyone would mind if this tiny little blog of mine fell into a state of disuse. Sorry, I suppose.

It’s all such a blur…