It's a philosophical fact that when you find the answer to one question, it only opens up more questions needing to be answered. I find myself searching for the answers to questions constantly, usually questions about myself and who I really am, without really accomplishing anything. I believe these questions aren't meant to be answered...
I have established I don't really know who I am or what I want, short-term nor in the long run, to a degree past 90. For those of you who don't understand what that means: I know nothing more than 25% of what I want. I'm not a genius, and I'm not even really that intelligent; people tend to expect more out of me than I'm truly capable of. I'm not selling myself short, I'm just saying I'm like anyone else; human, nothing more.
I can even say that I don't know what's in store for my future. I don't really have anything planned, though I should. I still need to plan, but, I hate making plans without knowing that I can go through with them for sure... I suppose I just don't really like planning out my own life in general. I never really have... I just go with the flow, and whatever happens happens. Probably not the best way to live, but that's how I've always survived, so I guess I can't really complain, can I?
It's only been 11 days down here, and while I can say I am homesick to some extent, I'm actually not doing too bad. I can definitely manage the remaining 21 days here without any difficulty. 'sides, I'm actually enjoying being around family, very much so. Despite reverting back to my accident-prone self again, it's been a blast. In fact, going for walks every so often and just tossing rocks into a little pond by the train tracks with Jon, and just talking about who knows what, has been rather fun too. That's actually been the highlight of my day most of the time, and I guess it's because it's the closest thing to how me and Jon used to hang out when we were younger. I really do miss those times. I miss how things used to be before everyone suddenly got majorly depressive... I think that's why I'm depressive myself; I'm upset because everyone else around me is upset. I've never had any reason to be upset really, besides that. Oh well...
Andra informed me that she wants to pay for me to visit eventually. I think she's crazy, personally, and I intend on paying every penny for my visit, but that won't be for a while anyway. I do look forward to it, but there's many months between now and then...
I just realized it's 8 months to the day from Christmas. That's strangely amusing.
Also amusing; in less than a month, Andra will be 16.
In 5 months and 19 days, I'll be 18.
One day after that, I'll hopefully be getting my license.
I believe it's 38 days until Jon visits Kandi. I hope they have a great time... I'm actually happy for them.
Though they do suck for beating me and Andra to visiting one another.
LOL. I have to be mean sometimes. :3
I'm ranting randomly now if you couldn't tell.
Jon amazes me with his vast knowledge about IRC scripting. I can't understand half of it, and yet he's memorized numerous parts of scripts like they were his native language. It's insane, but it's awesome.
My memory is so bad that I've forgotten what my house looks like. I know it, but I can't picture it... And the fact that my room will be clean when I get home, I'm going to be very very confused. I won't know where the hell I'm supposed to put things. Should be fun.
I want CiCi's Pizza someday soon. I haven't had that in a long time.
I'm so used to eating fast food at my house, that the whole time I've been here without fast food, has felt really weird. It's actually good though, I think I've gained a little weight and am a bit healthier. I look forward to screwing that up again when I get home. LOL.
I'm running out of things to rant about. I'll probably post another soon, probably tomorrow or the day after. I'm in a blogging mood once again; and it's about time, I've gone a while without blogging, and ruined the point to this blog in the first place. I went from 11 a month and then 8 a month, to like... 2 a month. Fail.
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