No purpose...

I feel compelled to start writing again. Maybe it's the summer. Maybe it's the feeling like everything is just sitting in my brain and stagnating there and maybe if I move it around through something like this it will sort itself out. I have this picture of my brain like a Rubick's cube now. Maybe that makes a lot of sense.

I have nothing to actually say. That's a lie. I do have things to say but not the words to do so. I don't even know what those things are exactly, to be honest, but I know they're there. Just fuzzy and out of focus. My brain feels fuzzy. Now I have this picture of my brain like a peach.

Something isn't sitting right. I'm restless. I'm not content. People refuse to believe that it's just because I'm single. For awhile I wasn't one of those people. Now I'm thinking of joining their ranks. Something bigger is the issue here. I'm not doing enough and I'm doing too much. I want to change but I don't want to give up what I have. There is no in between on these issues. My resolution I promised lasted all of about a month and a half. Then I started talking again. Zero willpower. There have been changes, I've noticed. Want is still there but action is not. I've been more under control. I still care too much. That last part is why I say that I have been unsuccessful - it was the important part.

I'm projecting. Thinking ahead and making a plan. I think things will be staying very much the same as they are until I move to Georgia. I can't foresee anything happening that is going to really register in the long run happening before then. The big question is can I maintain my sanity if that really is the case. Or will I finally stop waivering between extremes and force a change before then? Zero willpower. I submit that I will not. And I will be waiting out the next two years. They'll be enjoyable enough. I will laugh and I will make unforgettable memories and fast friends. But I will be discontented. Admitting this alternately makes me feel better and worse.

I came to the conclusion awhile ago that I am not actually smart. I am just very good at school. I think this is going to bite me in the ass in approximately 5.5 years. I will be no good at real life. Perhaps I should consider a field invovling a longer schooling process. As if a doctorate wasn't enough.

I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. Short. I haven't tried something like this before. It's a change. I'm terrified.

No purpose to this post. The fuzzy Rubick's cube still has 6 different colors on each side. And to top it off I write in half-sentences and bad metaphors. Maybe picking this up again was a bad idea for your sakes. My apologies.