There's just so much going on all the time, and yet I'm almost always bored.
I don't seem to ever have the time to write like I know I need to. I don't have the quiet room. The patience. The attention span. It's like having too much energy, but being forced to stay seated (which also happens to me all too frequently.) I have all of these things inside me that would love to escape onto a page, but I hold them back because it's easier. Or I don't want to deal with it. Or something.
To be honest, I don't know. I don't know anything.
I have no discernible course for my life. All I know is that while it's not actually bad, it's not really what I want.
I need an adventure. I wish I had the energy to go find one.