I don't know what to write about anymore. My life is so uneventful. And I feel like if I write about the things that seem like a big deal to me, I'll come across as a typical teenager. But I guess that's all I am, really.
I struggle with that. I don't like to think that I'm the same as everyone else my age. In some ways I'm not, but, in the same breath, I am. Maybe I've been listening too intently to my parents, feeding me all this stuff about how I'm so unique. And the people I go to church with, they used to tell me that, too. But I know I'm not really that different. At first it hurts. It's a pride thing I guess.
I'm really wishy-washy. I say "I guess" and "I think" a lot.
It's just one of those nights. Where I'll be up listening to Bright Eyes all night, refusing to do anything but drown in the music.
I'm fine, I swear. Sometimes I just need a night to sober up from all this teenage nonsense.
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