I haven't written for a whole month. It's not really a writer's block, I have a lot of things to write about, I just don't want to write about them. I'm bored with writing about sad stuff. It's not me and it seem totally foreign. You see, I now remember how I were before all the shitty stuff happened and I were a happy person. Well not the energetic-jumpin-out-for-joy happy but I've always have a positive and contented disposition in life. Whenever I leave our house, I imagine the whole neighborhood singing musicals. I'm tired of this melancholy, distressed girl that I have become. I want the old me back.
I can't write about how I got here in this very desperate state. There are just some stories that should never be retold. But now I am willing to admit that I need help.
I need help. This whole working-it-out-on-my-own-thing only got me this far.
