I might have written the almost-same post before but I’m too cool to remember it, and I’ve been thinking about how full of myself I’d have to be to think people would read the uneventfulness of my life, and actually appreciate it.

Because let’s face it, this isn’t poetry, this is hardly even story telling. At best, it’s journalling. and I was think that maybe I should take a break, read a lot more and come back and just be better. But I need practice and this is me talking to myself, just like all the other posts and being stupid enough to think that someone else will listen and feel like it’s doing them some good.


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