Today I did learn a new word. Cachinnate means to laugh.

There are so many new additions and subtractions to my routine. So many things have happened since a while ago, obviously.

I am glad to have a coherent direction (this has been achieved in many ways, like abandoning and being abandoned).

I do feel a sense of empowerment by quitting things. Sure, it does leave a mighty bitter feeling, but knowing that it will afford itself in the end is enough.

I have purposefully ended friendships for the sakes of my own. Delaying the end only makes it more difficult and creates more injustice toward everyone.

It doesn't feel good to feel unwelcome in your own town, church, or home. It is a great stress inside of your stomach to feel the dislike toward yourself from others. The scale should be labeled "pleasing others vs. pleasing yourself, ultimately". Sometimes you cannot just bite the bullet and wait until release is allowed. Sometimes you just need to be the darkness, as long as it ultimately leads to the overall livelihood and wellness of everyone involved. I do want the best for everyone, and I want what is best for me. It is my wish that there could be a more recognizable indicator of the ending of friendships, and there is, but sometimes one person refuses to acknowledge change in the bond, and thus comes tragedy. Mostly, tragedy for the voluntarily blind, but liberation for the one disposing it.

I really don't want to be incredibly morbid, and this is the first post I have completed in a very long time, so I will it on a mirthful manner. Joanna Newsom played in Tampa last night, and I was fortunate enough to have seen it. The show itself was truly a spectacle, Ms. Newsom playing alongside two violinists, a trombone, and two other very, talented men. And to add the créme de la créme, I was able to make acquaintance with Joanna, herself. Naturally I was bashful, but she was a wonderful woman who knew my heart as we muddled through conversation. It was as if I was spit-drunk and intoxicatedly stumbling through my harangue. She was beyond polite, and before I knew it, I was falling asleep on a pillow. Wonderful!

Topics to touch up on next post? 1. The rush of emotions leaving college has / 2. Becoming an adult.

Cool!

Also, I gave her a envelope at 2:04. Inside was a letter of appreciation outlining the amount of thanks I have for her works. Much more mature than a doll... dammit. Why did I not think of that.

17

I'm just so glad that the View is back on TV.

With the combination of afternoon school, a membership to the YMCA, and this, it couldn't get any better.

Well, of course it could. I need to spend less money. 

I'm not liking money right now, and I don't think that particular idea is new.

On a more disgusting, unhygienic note, I washed my hair last night.

I used to fear shampoos and conditioners, mostly shampoos. I did not like the feeling and overall appearance washing hair gives. It's big, it's poofy, it's nasty.

I managed to wash it, and it not explode. I was grateful.

Also, it's a lot less nasty.

In addition to adding something to my hygiene, I also met up with someone from my past. THIS PERSON IS SHELLY HUNSUCKER. SHE MADE ME LIKE READING AGAIN. IN MY SENIOR YEAR, I TOOK A CONTEMPORARY LIT CLASS IN WHICH SHE FORCED ME TO READ THE HANDMAID'S TALE BY MARGARET ATWOOD.

THIS IS A FASCINATING BOOK AND I RECOMMEND ANYONE READING IT. 

ANYWAYS, I CAME TO HER WITH EVERYTHING AND SHE DID A GOOD JOB CLEARING THINGS UP.

SHOUT OUT TO S. HUNSUCKER. HOW YOU DOIN'? ***

I am really glad that I was able to talk to her about my future, and she gave me constructive criticism.

This post is terribly topic-less.

Ugh. I feel like I am posting an extended update on Twitter.

I am a teenage girl.

On that note, here I am, as a teenager.

And on that note, I'm making new music. 

Less angst, more talent.

There it about 12 new ones up in this head of mine.

HOLD YOUR HORSES

love