I've been trying to get back into writing for quite a while. I mean yes, I still write whenever it occurs to me to do so but I used to write every single day, I had journals and journals filled with the most ridiculous stuff. In a bout of boredom earlier today I picked one of them up. Actually it wasn't that old I think it was from like October-November of 11th grade. Anyone who knows me remotely well will be able to attest that this was probably the most ridiculous, chaotic, messy time period in the history of my existence. I had this story that I guess I was working on in the hopes of one day actually completing which dealt with elves and elf lore (yes, I do happen to know everything pertaining to elves no I'm not crazy) and I had these crazy notes which chronicled everything. And I haven't written anything except for poetry in months but I figure I need to give it a shot again. I've decided that I'm going to attempt it once more, and I'm sure that if I just take it one step at a time, I'll be able to.

Anyway, I picked back up this short story that I was writing over the summer and I'm planning on finishing it and getting it up here sometime. It's disgusting outside but yesterday jump started my spirits. I'm positive that I suffer from an acute case of seasonal depression. Or maybe I just need to move to California. Blah blah blah.

I'm seriously considering majoring in Creative Writing. This is a big giant monstrous step for me. It's been so long since I've actually felt any sort of an overwhelming passion for anything, and right now I can feel that passion that I once had for writing burning through me. It's really amazing because I've been so apathetic and lacking a desire for... anything except for my boyfriend and sleep over the past few months. Fucking mono haha!

I feel like I found myself again somewhere in the mix.