Secondly: my cat.
There, out of my system. I promise I won't talk about my furry critters for the rest of this blog. I promise like a boy-scout.
Anyway.
Writing is tough lately. I have no problem with doing it, and I like it, but it just... I don't like it. I don't think it's good enough. Which yeah, bummer. I just have to keep writing to get better, yada yada. I get it. I think I'm just in a weird mood? I have this story, The List, and it's my baby. Except for some reason I hate it, I don't want to write about suicide anymore. I hate suicide. And how real it is.
But whatever. I can do it. I'm just going so many places with it, like I have random parts of the fic written. There's too many ways to end it, though. Too many routes. Unlimited routes. And I wrote one of them last night, sort of.
I dunno. I just need to keep writing so my style can be more mature, less spazzy. The works.
CAN YOU GUYS TELL I AM IN A GRUMPY-ASS MOOD TODAY? I know I promised (like a boy-scout), but I really really really really really don't want to go to doggy class today. Kill me. Quickly.
I'm just hungry. I am the second bitchiest bitch when I'm hungry and right now is me trying to get back into my usual
mood.WAGGGAAA WAAGGGGAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGG. \o/ \o/ \o/
!!!edit: HOLD THE PHONE I GOT DINNER AND FEEL GREAT