Recently, I came to a conclusion.
Conclusion: I'd rather fall in lust than fall in love.
Conclusion of the conclusion: I don't make very good conclusions.
I've decided (Hold on, may change in a couple seconds) that I don't want a boy. Whether it's love or lust. I mean, hey, if a surprise comes and it makes me happy, I'll go for it. But for now, I'm content.
It's been a while since I've been on here and I'd just like to make one conclusion that I've found to be true ... And mildly depressing.
Actual Conclusion: I don't know what the fuck I want.
Now that ^^^ is a conclusion. Almost like a conclusion that I don't have a conclusion on anything. I feel better in a strange way though. People seem like they have it all together when they really just want to have it all together. So, uhhh, I shall be the first to say that I have no clue. BUT, I guess I'm starting off with knowing what I don't want. And that's good right?
At least I have my head screwed on right.
And Chelsea, are you happy? Good. We need to chill and do awesome things.
Aaaaaand again. I don't really know why I am writing these blogs. I guess it's helping me figure things out. It feels kinda good. Whether this blog is read or not, I'm going to keep writing. It's like therapy for me. Now all I need is some valium.
Okay, thank you for reading this boring journal entry, if you will. It may get exciting in the future? Fuck it. Goodbye y'all.
