a drop in the ocean, a change in the weather.

come on and we'll try, one last time.

Home sweet home.
dog barking, lights on.
tv flickering.
teenagers screaming, music blaring.
parents laughing.
phones vibrating, computers running.
Home sweet home.
camera flashing, fan turning.
dishwasher rinsing.
Oven baking, water flowing.
feet pattering.
movies playing, child writing.
home sweet home.

I'm a pencil pusher. I write for no reason. 95% of the time, it's nothing worth mentioning. some of that gets posted up here. I always want to know how people have those deep moments in life that they can write a book about. I wish I knew how that felt; to have that type of purpose with your writing. To have that type of skill and level of understanding, that they can just sit and typer and type and type until the day's over and the word document is over 7 pages. I wish I could.

I've been feeling very out of place recently. I don't know why. I've been floating through school, and sort of not even in my own body. I'm just kind of there. My friends have noticed. It's weirding them out too. Maybe it's just me trying to get everything together, but it's never happened before. I'm trying to anchor myself down though, so I can finish out the year and then have SUMMER.

Ehhh, who knows? Maybe I'll be fine in a week or two. I'm just bored. France and Spain, 58 days?


Food for Thought.