pretty girls make graves

Well, here I go again, I suppose. I've made countless attempts at this "blogging" thing and I've never posted more than a few times. I'm not sure what makes me think I'll keep it up this time around. For some reason the idea of posting my thoughts on the internet seems wildly unappealing. It also somewhat makes me feel as if I'll be tracked down by a violent computer nerd (now there's an oxymoron) that somehow has my IP address. Spending an evening duct taped to a chair in a psychopath's basement is less than what I hope for in regards to my future.

No, my near future hopefully consists of spending my evenings in an arctic tundra of a library, forcing knowledge into my brain so that I can become a famous pediatrician and save adorable kids from cancerous moles and fistulas and such. Then I will have lots of money and I will be doing what I love. Maybe with the person that I love. But more than likely not. I give all my love to myself, and I don't really know if I should share all that love with anyone else. Then I'd be neglecting my insides and outsides. Which is never any fun, right?

Look at me, spilling my guts to you people. "You people" meaning my mom and three friends that have heard me go on and on about my life more than four times in the past month.

I guess the real reason I'm trying to start a blog again is because my mom told me I need to start writing again, basically because my writing has become shit. I used to write constantly. I think I was probably brilliant. But lately, I spend all my time thinking about what I'm going to do, when I'm going to do it, and who I'm going to do it with that I don't stop and just write what's on my mind. So that's what I'm trying to do. Write.

Boring, right? I don't blame you if you make the decision never to read my blog again. But I'd like it if you did because I want to help you through my words. I hope to inspire and save as many people as I can in this lifetime, and I'm hoping I can do a little bit of that through my writing.

Emily