what's the point of writing if it has no impact on anyone, and more than likely, no one will reads these words. Is there a pleasure in writing for one's own enjoyment without the external gratification of a reader? There must be.
Is there purpose to all this? I'm torn between wanting to feel like a "normal human" who craves human contact and the natural, relative loner I tend to be without effort. I love to write, but really I've no clue what's worth writing and what isn't...and also, how could I even be the judge of that? WHO actually is the judge of that? I'm not sure.
It's quite possible, maybe even obvious, that I am the creator of all these questions, that I am fabricating my own anxiety thus I have option to detach myself from these issues. Maybe I should try.
It's Saturday,
June 6th,
it's raining.
It's warm,
but humid.
I've completed the Semester with three C versions and one loosely given A.
The Summer is ahead of me. I have no plans.
