Writing Journal #1

Good evening,

My name is Noah, I am 19 years old and I am aimless.

I mean that’s kind of a given, right? As millennials, it’s sort of our thing to not have direction, like, ever. Moving back home and prevaricating the anxiety-inducing life questions is what we do best. However, this is like a “super aimless” so to speak; might be a bit more tricky.

Ask me what I want to do, I’ll tell you something fancy sounding. What school I go to? Yeah — the purple one: with the out-of-climate mascot and a namesake of some dude who has never even set foot in this part of the country. But do I really, though?

I mean I guess I do…oh wait yes, I do! No…not really. Hmm.

Aimless on top of aim. A directionless direction. I have no idea what I’m doing, but every idea simultaneously. What’s that even about?

I suppose that’s what this journal is about. On top of telling myself I need to write more, the purpose of this daily (hah) exercise is to figure shit out, I guess.

Buckle up and enjoy the show. It’s probably gonna be ugly — but bear with me.