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Oh hell.
What do I need another journal for? I write, and write, and reformat, and delete all the entries for this thing, over and over. What is the poiiiint??
I guess I need somewhere to rant. My traditional, paper journal is for homelife details. My Diaryland journal is for medical stuff. This one doesn't have a point again. Why am I turning these things in to compartmentalized variations of the same thing?
I don't think anyone bothers to read my journals on sites like this. I'm on Facebook, and they have something like this there, too. I posted a little information about my last two years, you know, for the folks and distanced schoolmates; a couple of my better 55-word stories.
I open up way too many online journals. Good thing this one is just sort of optional, and not the point of the site. I wonder if anyone on here has a really well-read journal on their account. A really stirring life, with lots of adventurous tales to regale and recount for his/her/its viewers' pleasures. If there is such a journal like that on this site, I sure haven't seen it yet.
So, what have I been doing today? Well, I skipped out on going to the Welfare office (yes, boo at me all you want, I need all the spare change I can get right now), sat around on Facebook all day, and tried to join a writers' guild on here. I'd sort of like to open a guild here, but I doubt I could think of anything interesting enough to attract hyper-active flocks of Gaians. Writing is already accounted for, and there's nothing else I really specialize in, or covet enough to devote 20k (or whatever it costs to open a guild) to this idea. I have nothing better to spend my gold on. I was saving it up for a Nightmare Headband.. but those suckers are impossibly priced these days, so my measly 100-ish k gets me nowhere.
I could have read my ex's paper journal today, while he was out. I could have, but I'm not really that sort of person anymore. He makes no secret of where or what that little red book in his room is. I think the reason I leave it alone is that I respect that he needed to take his anger out on something when I left him, his depression and his dismay. When I don't want people to read my written thoughts, I put them down in code; I don't often do that anymore. Reading it wasn't even something I thought about until this moment. I won't, and I have no real reason to bother. We're pretty open about our thoughts at the moment as is.
I could have gone to the library again, but I don't have a real reason to yet, seeing as I haven't even started the books I got yesterday. I have to go back to my mom's place tomorrow, to get my work pants. I'm staying either here, at my ex's -- on his couch, or I'll be spending my first night in my new apartment tomorrow night. I guess it all depends on the outcome of the call to my landlord in the morn. I hope I wake up before noon. I hope he has my keys this time, and I can start shoveling my s**t in that place. I want to get in there, and get on with things.
I'll miss the internet, but hell, that's what coming to the ex's place is supposed to be all about.
 Byouki · Wed Dec 31, 2008 @ 06:32am · 2 Comments |
