I'm in a rut. I just so feel so small these days. I'll try to be literal. I'm not going to intentionally beat around the bush, as it does no good for me to continue masking things. I'm doubtful anyone will read this, and that's partially why I'm posting it here rather than elsewhere. But, moving on.

Nothing is how I really want it to be. I live so much in my head that real life constantly disappoints me. I always am daydreaming about how it will be in the future, how great it will be, how my life will come together once something happens. But I'm always waiting for something to happen. If it's not one thing, it's another.

So I've decided to ante up. Make decisions and plan out my future accordingly -- but actually DO something about it. As a result, I've changed my major. No more English for me, that was a stupid stupid dream with no real future or ideas attached to it. I'm majoring in Business Administration. I know it's boring but it's likely something I'll be good at and that will provide me more job opportunities. First off, though, I'm going to get a certificate to be an Account Clerk. That way, I'll have the skills necessary to work in an accounting office or similar while I'm still in school. That way I can hopefully get out of the wild world of shitty retail jobs and possibly make a little more money.

I'm also working on a bunch of other things to better myself. I'm going to get my license, for example. For God's sake I'm almost twenty years old and I don't have a driver's license. All my shortcomings, I feel, are due to fear and laziness. I don't want to be that person anymore.

With that said, I'm done. I could go on about how I'm changing my life, but that would be the same old story over and over again. I'll try to check back if I actually complete these things. That would be more meaningful than this slop.

For now, I'm hopeful.

I need to read more. I just sold some stuff and made a little bit of money. As soon as it's routed to my bank account, I'm definitely going to be buying some badass books from Half.com.

That's all.

I really really miss creative things that make me happy. I miss photography. I miss (crappy) art. I miss writing. I miss reading to inspire me. But for some reason I cannot finish anything I start.

I realized that I've had this thing for over two years. And it's extremely lacking and neglected. I don't know why.

I've changed so much over the two years I've had this thing. It's like I can pinpoint certain emotions of the stage I was going through in my very few deviations. It's weird.

I think I may be in another changing stage at the moment. I don't know.

Fuck people.

These days I'm determined to better my self-esteem. At LEAST in regards to how I look. I just have to remember that my name means beautiful in Spanish and that must mean something. That was lame. I don't know. Fuck I don't knows. Dammit.

Frustrated.

Done.

Sometimes (especially as of late), I think, "What if I died tomorrow and I didn't get the chance to tell (insert any important person in my life) how much they truly mean to me?"

Especially as it pertains to one person in my life right now.

I know what I want to say it just won't come out.

Ugh.

I sat on my own chewed-up nasty gum.