That's what I do here.

I write.

The problem is that I write whenever I want to and I haven't been doing a lot of that. Which honestly is troubling. Someone once said in my presence that surely I had something to say. Something to write a story, a play about. Do I?

Well I guess I do.

I could sit here and talk all day about the issues I have with my past. With my parents.

Yeah. Those shitheads from my previous school, still lurking around me everywhere.

I guess I could.

One day.

When I'm ready.

It's still to early for me to be writing my biography.

Unless of course I plan to jump out of my window tomorrow.

Talking about my past makes me so bitter.

Dammit.

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.