I am found. Again.

I just read my older posts. They were written by a 16 year old girl who really loved the idea of blogging. That was me, of course, you know that. I would like to tell you that I still love the idea, it's my very own personal corner of the internet, this blog. Where I don't have to apologize, or edit, I can talk about almost everything that my conscience lets me. It gives me a feeling of freedom, how true this freedom actually is, I don't know.

I love that I have this internet hobby that's not mainstream yet. Because this is no social network and to find a specific blog you need to be given the link to it, I am relatively unknown as a blogger, which is good because so many things have been said here that I wouldn't have it any other way. It's true! I've really opened up here, sometimes a little too much.

This year I haven't published much because many of the things that occur to me I write in a notebook, I still enjoy using ink to express my BOOM feelings, and my blah feelings and all of the other feelings. Also, I stopped publishing because sometimes it gets to me that there's only one person who reads what I write, sometimes. Also, because I get lazy, and also because I think I'm not interesting enough. But then I see something written anywhere that I really like and that inspires me and I want to write again, I like to be a part of this little society of people who want to see their thoughts published, for whatever reason.

So, that 16 year old girl who began to write this blog in may, 2009, that girl who wrote without caring about what others thought of her entries, that girl who addressed her reader directly, that girl who LOVED to get comments, no matter how weird or lazy they were, that girl, that girl, well she's still here! She's gotten a little older, knows a little less, cares a little more, but she's overall just as excited to be writing.

I don't know how much longer she's going to be here, maybe a few more years, maybe just months, who knows? But that doesn't matter. As usual, nothing really matters when put in perspective. I'll keep going for as long as I must.

I'm just here doing something that I like instead of something that I should do.

I will come back to let the cork fly every time there's too much pressure in my bottle.

I don't know what I'm talking about.

La la la, I still don't know.