I hate writing on my phone. But my computer is in use as a tv and, well, it’s tough being a 20something in the first cusp of the 21st century. I was laying there doing yoga pondering over how frustrating it was how attractive this guy’s character is as Newt and I HAD to get my emotional opinions of him out there, but it’s so too so-many-things and awkward to post on my only outlet, fb, so I decided fuck it. I NEED. another source outside of work and fb, all of my friends are in another city or a coworker, and I’ve been having a hard time keeping ‘church and state’ seperate. I’m already too annoying at work to constantly blabber about my daily inspirations for existing and I am the WORST at keeping up with communicating with my friends. (I need to talk, but it feels like a chore when not in person.) Plus I haven’t written an actual journal in so long since they’re too embarrassing to read back on so I always burn them, but, an online journal, that’s perfect. It’s just as stable as the actual website. Left in the spiral of an endless internet informational pit or lost in a battle of a godaddy name title war. No one I ever know will read it. And by the off chance they do, no one that knows me will ever know me well enough to be able to guess that they were reading my journal. Internet journal. The hardest part is remembering everything you had decide to write down earlier when you first had the epiphany to start an internet jornal. And writing fast and efficient enough on a thumb keyboard, HA! I’m on my second or third year of not being able to get my best friend anything for Christmas. And she always gets me SO MANY THINGS and GOOD things. EVERYtime Whenever anxiety kicks in about me being a good or bad friend or person, that thought is always the uplift of the curtain. Like my debt helps describe what a piece of selfish shit I am. I know not really, and it’s probably all the weed that makes me so anxious, but here I am. I’d like to talk about how my love would be to volunteer my time with elephants and rekindle my love of fashion design into a profitable career. Or even something photojournalesque. Or how I just found out that my mom has breast cancer and I can’t tell anyone because I just want the attention on me having just found out my mother has breat cancer. Like how fucked up is that, my mom has a 234,000 out of 34,000 chance of living and I’m over her practicing how I would react if my crush at work happened to see me answer a call regarding my mom having died of cancer. So instead, I bring it up casually and non emotionally to two of my friends at work and they looked more hurt than I could act. There’s also my best friend along with the last 25 -1 that saw me for me and has been at my throat. My roommate and her daughter scare me. I’m scared I’ll loose my job any day for being such a constant asshole. I have no clue how my crush at work feels about me. I have no idea about anything. Welcome to the first night of my inner chaos.