Can I call this a log?
Well, let me start saying that I’m not used to write anything in English but I think somehow this is gonna be my new way to share things I’m thinking so I hope it’s OK.
Again. Well, again ’cause I’m trying to write anything. I’m trying to like melt this portion of my brain that explains why I’m thinking about that stuff that make me cringe a lot. I don’t know if there’s anything about series I watch but they like… catch me. Catch me in a way that I can only describe as “I feel you, I think”.
‘Cause the first time I had this I was working somehow in a book and you know this book sucked since the plot was about two of my old characters — things that I made up but even though I didn’t have the courage enough to make them alive to live their lives by themselves so they’re kinda super dependent on how much I was writing and describing their lives. Then Sparks came up. Sparks is short for Ruby Sparks (that movie some people hated cause it was too much fantasy and lame). Well, we got Zoe Kazan so I was thinking about her and how I could describe how an (not actually GREAT) OK relationship would be. I was alone that time.
I had a crush on a girl and we were kinda hanging out. It was fun.
And… she had a boyfriend. Which sucks, right? But I didn’t know how much it sucked until I realized I was worried with the wrong reasons. I was worried if I would be able to give her enough fun to make her like me and stuff like that — yeah, I know I was the backup for her but you know when you don’t care? Well, I was there.
Nowadays I don’t actually know if I wanted that cause I was too impulsive so you can imagine this was not healthy at all since the beginning.
But I don’t think about that as it is. I think about how that phase could make me productive about my writings, sure it was good. It felt right. Guilty. But right.
I’m in a position now that I can see people sighing about little things in their dialogues and this make me kinda uncomfortable with the fact I could try to make they feel better. But that’s not my job.
I don’t know how much time I can keep stalling to get to the point.
The point is:
Somehow, I miss those old days (as I said to myself before today). I miss having fun even when I was feeling bad. I miss having a great time with a bunch of people I don’t even know. I don’t mean to like be wasted in someone’s place — but that could be great someday, not like a routine thing, but one night only could be great.
I miss feeling the idea of being free. Be someone I’m not afraid to share anything. To talk for hours about something really useless and discuss about it like it means a lot to everyone. And at the same time I think I’m aging. The taste of everything now is like garbage, unless is really complex. This is some hipster shit I think and as a friend told me earlier: dude, you know you’re a hipster and shit but well la-di-da.
I’m back again and I figured out now I’m even more pointless than I was when I was like 18 yo. I think the difference is: now I can say that shit in English.
I’m sorry for keeping you up so late. I’m gonna crash. See you later.