One last thing before I cut myself off for the night

Is it weird to write so much that you forget what you’ve written entirely and then ramble through it later and think it’s pretty funny for contextual and also, bizarre as shit living your life reasons? Sometimes when I show friends what I’ve written or people encounter my blog, I COMPLETELY forget I ever talked about any of this because it’s just a recording of the 24/7 8 days a week newsfeed that scrolls behind my eyes anyways, and it’s only been 4 months of having that recorded in any stable place to the world. What the actual hell. It’s actually kind of startling, actually. It’s not that I like to keep my opinions to myself, clearly that’s not the case. But to be in situations where people might want to actually talk about them or *gasp* agree? What kind of sick Twilight Zone World have I stepped into, I ask of you? My life could be…productive, AND helpful? What the actual fuck. Guess so.

It’s like a Millenial’s worst dream.


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I am a teacher-to-be who loves people. I am not afraid of many things. I like to explain my thoughts logically on a very birds-eye view level--I was born thinking that way. I follow Jesus Christ, and I accept only that label to describe my identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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