Retarded USC Girl

The funny thing about writing this is that I forget that other people read it. It is a reflex action for me. I have to come here and I have to write it all down.... and I am not sure why really. It makes sense to me - and that is important. Things should make sense as often as possible, because in the great scheme of things, nothing really makes any sense at all - not in the big picture. So, I come on here virtually every day and i type. type type type. The little keys just clanking away. My fingers rapidly brushing each one.

You know, for a long time, I wanted to be a writer... and then I decided against it... who would read the shit in my head? I mean - I dont wanna mass market to weirdos, but the more you think about it... deep down, we are all weirdos... there are social norms that we all do not conform to on some level. My mom wanted me to be a writer. Did I ever mention that? She liked to read the things I had written - to include this blog even. I miss her. I had an amazing dream about her the other night. I rarely dream about her... and that breaks my heart, I am so thankful for the dreams of her that I do have, but in all of my dreams, she is dead. I think my heart knows that pretending she is alive and then waking up to discover that is not real would kill her all over again and I dont think I could take that.

So, back to the point... I write this silly little blog and I forget that people read it until someone reminds me or reads something and realizes that I am sad at times, but hey - we all are. I am happy 90 - 95 percent of the time, but if I was happy every minute of every day, I wouldnt appreciate it. How could I? So, I get online and I write... I write for an audience of sorts, but mainly for myself I think. I type and type until I have said my peace and then you will stumble on here and read a random entry. That is why I am so honest on here. Not because I have never told a lie, but because if I am honest... even about the moments when i am hurting... if I am honest about that, and you stumble on here and you feel the same way at that very moment and you understand.... if you can relate, well then it was worth it.

So what if I look like a pansy at times. So what. Who the fuck cares? To you I am most likely a little box edged in pink with black words inside. ... when in reality I am the most fabulous chica ever! lol.

I am gonna go pick up Julie... who recently discovered an entry on my covert lil blog -hence this post - the things that I write are what I hold true.... I am honest on here... always.... the problem is this: just because I am honest, does not mean that I am right.

posted by Ashlyn @ 8:25 AM