I have all this stuff I mean to write but when it comes to typing it out, it seems pointless. I don’t mind feeling this way anymore. I’d much rather come off as witty or interesting, but I can settle for honest.
My policy nowadays is to act the way I feel. Instead of trying to cater to other people or fit into social norms, I do what I want. It takes some trust in myself to believe that I’m generally a good person, but everything seems to be working in my favour.
I have something major going on each month until December, at which point I’ll probably hermatize for three weeks until another round of holiday craziness.
The summer has been warm and fuzzy, and it’s filled me with contentment. I don’t care about the future anymore. I’m living in this moment, and thankful it’s a nice one.