A lack of things to say maybe? Laziness? hmm, probably more like it...
I was clicking back though older entries last night and realised how I always seem to write about the same sorts of things. Man this is getting boring. School. The Future. Life. Etc. All With Capitals. You Get The Picture. If you're reading this, you've probably read them all anyway, so you understand.
And then occasionally I slip in one entirely random about things like my desire to wear pyjamas all day long. And then maybe one with Atwood style rhyming words "But my nail varnish remains pink even though it's chipping. stripping. not now, though, the sun is shining and it would be bad." although that's not an intentional Atwood rip off, that's just my mind being random. hmm..
An entry about my entries. Ohh dear. I wonder if it's too late to save the situation.
And then I come out with entries that sound like they belong here for some reason, perhaps because I never really know what I'm going to write until I start typing.
I spent ages this morning listening to my mum talk about various relatives who have petty "issues" with one another and how she has to take everyone ranting at her. I've decided my mum is one of the nicest people in the world. But I knew that already. I guess circumstances can make you appreciate people more that you would anyway. You're forced to think about the serious possibility of not having them in your life anymore. In many ways I wish I was more like her, but I also know our minds work so differently that it wouldn't work. She's so emotionally sensitive I feel I have to talk to her like I would do to a child in some situations. I had to comfort her and make her think rationally. Which is strange. I guess it makes me become more rational as a result. It means I prefer to talk to both of my parents as a unit about many things, as they neutralise each other. But even if I talk in child-sensitivity mode, she still has the "wisdom" of her years which I will always need her for. I'm 18 and haven't really lived very much at all. Sheltered, some might say. I would probably agree. My mum was married at the age of 18, and living in a country entirely foreign to her, with no family or friends to support her. And a couple of years later, her husband passed away, and her in-laws didn't want to know...
I can't even imagine what that would be like.
No, this wasn't a good turn in topic of entry. Ah well. Let's end it here and get back to further marketing...
