Time, time and time again

How absolutely ridiculous is this? How dumb. How gorgeously and intricately terrible is my life right now?

I feel like I'm repeating the same garbage with every post. And this is my life now. Repeated garbage. I need change. I've been experiencing some sort of strange change lately, but it's not much a game changer, to be honest. It should be. I'm walking into completely new territory. I'm walking, just now, on sacred ground that I've been aching to touch for years now. But it's no big deal. And that scares me.

I feel like I should be blogging.

But really, I have nothing to blog about.

I'm boring. And it kills me. I was talking to this guy the other week and he had all these stories about travel and his old job picking fruit with basic tree saps and how he got stung so many times because he didn't want to wear long sleeves and big hats. He had his life planned out and he had experiences with skinny dipping and playing bumper cars high.

And I was already battling this weird funk where I just couldn't stand my past life because I had experienced nothing. I didn't have any stories. I wasn't well-cultured and I never traveled properly. I grew up with this idea all the way through high school yearning to become someone interesting. I lived in this dreaming state for six years where I was to avoid at all costs becoming the average adult. I hated the idea of settling down in a dead-end job and I dreamed constantly. And then I remembered - this dude I was talking to was five years older than me. What's going to happen to me in the next five years? Where will I go in between now and then? So much can happen in so little time. For the first time in the longest time, I was excited. I was excited to live, to be alive - I wanted to continue with my life of growing and experiencing. I'm young. I'm dumb. I won't become the villain I feared three years ago. For fuck's sake, I'm only nineteen. This could be the very turning point of my life but every year is a turning point. There's an exit every way down the road.

I'm still deathly afraid of the world, but I'm not unwilling.

I'll never be ready but I will walk into the fog and I will come back out of it.

End blog post.

Adios.