I'm finding it hard to get outta bed these days. I dig that whoever eventually reads what I write on here doesn't want to hear a bunch of whiny shit on how hard my life is or some crap like that. Truth is, my life is pretty damn sweet. The only thing I really can complain about is how hard my parents ride me, how they don't approve of... well... anything I do, but it's trivial. I get why they want me to finish college, get a career, not sit around all day reading with my head in the clouds; but they don't get that becoming the workaholic daughter they've always wanted would kill whatever makes me who I am. I don't know. Most of the time I feel like a parasite, and the rest of it I'm writing stories in my head. Anyway, I guess that's enough whining for the night.
Good night dear readers.
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