now that i've worn out the world in no longer wide-eyed and full

I’ve come to an entirely revamped site and the revelation that NoJoMo is basically the new, what was it? NaNoWriMo? I think I tried to do that when I was fifteen.

It’s midnight and raining and like 50 degrees outside but I’m under the covers with fuzzy socks, my fuzziest PJs and my favorite sweatshirt. Winter is coming. At least for 24 hours in SoCal.

I have a lot on my mind lately, but sometimes all you can do is write about the obvious things. I binged the Gilmore girls revival yesterday and it’s allowing me to look at my own self and my own life. Which, I guess, is really what stories and art are supposed to do. My sense of directionless is dictated by my lack of employment and instead of embracing the unknown, I’ve retreated into myself and into fictional worlds where it’s easier to revel in Rory’s relationship drama than think about my own nonexistence. I don’t really want to talk to anyone these days.

2016 is coming to a close and while I’m glad this shit year is almost over, I have even more fear and dread because 2017 isn’t set up for greatness either. I don’t know what’s next and I’m spinning my wheels.