I hear that the stars were so bright; I hear that it was such a sight.

I need to de-clutter my mind. It's frustrating, though, because I haven't been able to write anything good in forever. I've started a few times in the past couple days, just trying to force myself to start with the hope that, once I start writing, something good will come from it. It hasn't. Anyway, not yet. I can't even write a good blog-post... whatever that would look like. I don't actually know... hm. Odd - it never occurred to me to wonder what a blog was for before. Oh well. What I really need is to talk about all of this stuff - to tell it to somebody, or something... but I don't know how. (And no, of course that didn't sound cliche...) But therein lies the difficulty - I'm far too stubborn to go into all of the details of all the ridiculous things going on in my head. This whole paragraph is proof of that. I want to discuss it, but I won't. I don't get me. I bet nobody really gets themselves, though... in fact I think it's very likely that anyone who pretends to understand himself is even more delusional than the rest of us. Poor sucker.

One thing I will say, though, is that my car is having problems and is now in the shop. I don't know how long it'll be there. In the meantime I have to drive the van, which feels like a bus compared to my car. (Today I was turning a sharp corner in the parking lot at school and I drove over the curb. Which was awkward AND, if I'd been in MY car, would not have happened.)

Aggggh. I'm tired. Not sleep-deprivation tired, either. I mean real, worn-out, nothing-left-to-give tired. That feeling came on Monday and hasn't gone away since. Not a great way to start a school week.

I have to work on my English paper. I wrote it the other day, but I have to revise it now, because the first draft was pretty awful. This kinda sucks in itself - I never do "first drafts". I write something and it's done. My writer's block is even spreading to my essays! Ack!

I want to go for a drive. But I CAN'T. sigh.

... all the sudden my room smells like cat-litter. How suspicious.

Anyway - this all really had no point, but I wish it did. I think if I could write a charming, witty, meaningful blog-post, that I might feel better about today. But I'm too tired to think that way. Kind of depressing, isn't it?

This is silly. I need a new game-plan.