.... sorta'....
So, I'm a happy-go-lucky puppy again (at least for the time being) and just because I like to fuck with my mind I decided to reread my posts over here. They simply ooze of depression and similar to an AA member I should stay like thousands of miles away from the staff that would potentially make me fall back into the pits of darkness, I should run and hide at the end of the world. Or so they say. Because me, being me, and I am a notorious masochist, here I am doing exactly what I shouldn't do.
But from time to time I become curious over certain things, one of them being: how in the world do I get statistics feeds when I don't publicly advertize my blog, nor any of my surrounding peers know of its existence. A second reason would be that I like revisiting the memories I put down on "paper" as sad as some of them might be because they were/are part of me. I sometimes imagine myself reading them to my grandkids and telling them that taking trips down the lane aren't as fun as emo impersonators make them out to be. I want to be a cool grandma' and all that shit. Or maybe just and overly spoiling aunt, whatever the future has in store for me.
Today the weather forecast said something about a thunder-storm. I'm still waiting on that but seeing the sun brightly shining its way into dusk I hardly think it possible anymore. Yesterday was a similar story. But I like rain and it always makes me happy to watch it from my windowpane, dreamy expression on my face and all the package. At least then I have the best excuse to listen to wrist-cutting songs and sulk into oblivion bribing my muse in the process. Well, it works most of the times, so why not exploit it?
Oh, but the songs already started and I enjoy every bit of them. If only my muse would be so easily tricked, I could actually write my first story in a looooong while. Too bad it won't happen today. Well, I'm off to read some more fanfiction and whatnot (I know I should be studying, but psst!! don't tell anyone, ok?)
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