01.09.04
Pour un instant j'ai oubli� mon nom
I haven't been writing in here very consistenly for the last eight months. I'm not sure why, really. I suppose it's because part of me isn't interested in sharing what I'm thinking down deep. The other part of it may be that I groan at myself when I re-read what I've written, at my stupidity or poor writing. And if I'm writing it where only I can read it, I'm somehow less embarassed.
So I could write about the boy who's moving to the Middle East with the army in one month, who everyone tells me to run from. Despite the fact that every single friend I have told has said the same thing, I am delibertly ignoring them.
I could write about the classes that are the same as always. A little interesting, a little boring, a little too early, a little too long, a little too stressful...
I could write about Christmas and the beautiful moments that seemed to last forever.
I could write about fainting in the hallway for no reason by my neighbours door. I could write about the friends who seem to walk the same paths and say the same words everyday, or I could write about the trip I'm tentatively planning for September.
But each day begins and ends the same, and really, I'm not sure that I have much to say at all.
wunderwuman at