Intricacies.

I've had a weird week. I've had a weird year. I've had a weird life. Let's go back. Actually maybe we shouldn't.

Not that I need to blog every day, but most of the time I sort of have to. Obviously not for my millions of readers that long to follow my string of thoughts. I blog for me. It's my way of getting my emotions out there in some sort of tangible way. It helps me from going under. From becoming consumed completely. The fact that Erin, Jamie, and Michael and who knows, maybe others, care enough to tune in is just overwhelmingly amazing to me. I don't say everything on here. The journal I carry in my purse contains more personal thoughts. I scribble thoughts on paper randomly throughout the day and so if you dug through my trash you would probably find out either how crazy I really am, or a deeper understanding of my inner workings. I don't make sense half the time. Which is okay to me. I don't necessarily need to. I'm just trying to function.

I'm rambling. I ramble under only certain circumstances. Do you know what those are? Hm. I wonder.

Opportunities aren't something I waste. I am a responsible young woman. I'm quickly approaching 22 years old. My lifetime isn't long, but it isn't short either. I have experienced things that others never will. I have scars that haven't come close to healing. I feel so weak. I am weak. Yet somehow I stand.

Desmond.

One month.

Go out and live.

Can't promise it isn't over.

Selfish.

Forever.