She read it.

She read it.

She read it.

BUT SHIT.

SHIT

SHIT.

I totally overstated everything I had.

I'm an idiot.

3 or 4 of worth?

okay

shit

shit

shit

shit

shit/

Because.

What if they're not?

Don't blow this.

I was so happy just now.

BUT SHIT.

I'm nervous.

Nervous is bad.

Gotta.

Um.

Calm

down.

Which is not possible.

First step on a long road to endless possibilities.

SHIT.

God help me.

I don't love music for no reason right?

Totally grasping at straws here.

Anything.

This could be it.

Suck it up little soldier,

you do not look like an angel.

Just another starstruck (see above for evidence*) wanderer trying to find his way in this horribly confusing and sometimes messed up world.

This space as you might have realised is for my own venting. It's where I talk, to myself. To the universe. It's where I don't lie. Much. Chances are you won't get more truth out of me than these few billion pages of angst.

My life isn't that bad. Sometimes. The good parts just usually end up being the blank dates in between the posts you see. So yes, just to practice my math and to cheer myself up a little, the number of posts is inversely proportional to my mental wellbeing. Yes that counts as math with me.

And despite the wry smile on my face and the grin I can imagine on yours, I'm still rather sombre.

I promise you I'm sunny somedays. Stick around. You never know what you may learn.

*hint may or may not be in big black font at the top of the page.