I barely remembered the other day that I used to write on here, long ago. And I guess a part of me missed it. Missed the random act of writing whatever's going on in my head.
This test, which I can't seem to get around, mostly due to my own stupid psychoses, has aided in my losing any longterm purposes in my life at the moment. I keep thinking about throwing things on my potter's wheel, planting a garden, renting some honeybees for my yard, biking, climbing, getting a dog, learning to weld, making my own furniture pieces with wood, taking more pictures and printing them (also to make my house more my own), going on walks in the sunlight, reading books of leisure...but it all seems so unreachable at the moment. I do realize that they will come with time though. I have a hope in my heart that these things will eventually be realized, no matter how drissly this winter has been and currently is for me. I'm ready for it to be over. If I'd had a better perspective going into it, I could have enjoyed it, but if I'm going to not enjoy a season, at least it's winter.
I will eventually cross that bridge, one way or another, or at least force myself over the worst of it. Action is better than inaction, at least where my own sanity is concerned. And I need to get the internet. You never realize how crazy it can make you, being used to it and not having it. I don't need it, but I think my life would be more organized and concise with it. But I need to be able to afford it first I guess.
And I think I'll hopefully be writing on here more often; for myself. I know not many people read it anyway, which is fine for me since it's mainly the selfish act of me liking to write, whether I'm good at it or not.
