Things get tough and life gets weird, but I like to think I can get through most of it with more words and less whine because I’m trying really hard to be an adult in this world.
I’m twenty-three with a degree that I haven’t used since before I got it. I work at the mall and it stunts my growth as a human, but I hope it’ll make me a better person one day. When I try, I really try. I hope one day I can just write. Even if I’m not famous and don’t get published or something. I just want to be better at keeping a schedule and writing every day and not feeling like my brain is a plate of mashed potatoes my family serves on the night of St. Patrick’s Day. Things like that are hard to write because it’s St. Patrick’s Day, but I think it might be wrong of me to call it St. Patrick’s Day night or St. Patrick’s night. I’m not always right, but I say that I am because I think it might show confidence or something and I don’t have much of it but I can pretend. I can pretend mostly anything. I am pretending right now. Pretending to know what I’m saying, but who can really know.