Im My Room, But Outside the Window, But Trapped In My Head

I decided to create a new xanga. No, its a blog. This is more grown up, i suppose. I journal quite a bit. Its all right here inside my little 12 inch iBook G4. I always write my journals as if someone is going to eventually read them one day. Like if I unexpectedly die young, then the journal entries will be very very entertaining for those who were close to me. I never get extremely personal in my own journals for that very reason. Thats funny. There are times, however, when I get serious and confess some stuff. The other day I was at the library and I went back and read some of them, just the ones with intriguing titles.. the ones that I knew were about girls or romance. ha. I havent changed much since I've gotten this computer, which was when I was just turning 19 years old. And yes, this computer is showing signs of age. Computers age much faster than dogs.. dog years are 7 years to our 1. I think Computer years are 17 or 19 to our 1.

I'm in my room. It is very difficult to focus in here. It is very difficult to read in hear at times, although I manage, but not without many distractions. There is the internet, my stringed instruments, my harmonica, my camera, and then, the internet.. again. But here I am on the internet, in my room, looking out my window at the church next door, yet trapped... in my dadgum head. But I am writing. and thats nice to be able to write and not be at the library, which has been the summer trend for me.

I woke up feeling very terrible this morning. Bummed out. Had a person on my mind. and others. Woke up feeling louzy. Woke up feeling like a depraved dadgum sinner, but without enough energy to focus a conversation with the Creator. I do not wanna be anywhere, but I def do not want to be here. All my favorite songs this morning sound ugly. Its a bum feeling to look out into the week(s) and have nothing to be excited about. Life feels very small. Like the options are small. Like the places to go are limited. Like the people who I will eventually meet are few. Like my goals and ambitions are weak. Like mediocrity is my only choose. Oh well. I got a good crew.