A few close friends tell me I should write. And honestly, I feel better when I do. But I don’t want anyone to know, really, because it makes me worry people won’t like or understand what I have to say. I can’t bring myself to just type out word documents offline, because what’s the point? So I guess the tumblr I don’t really know how to use that none of my friends know I have seems like the best option.

This weekend was lonely. My roommate Rob left to go home to go fishing and retrieve his Xbox hard-drive. I haven’t left campus. I haven’t spoken to anyone in person, come to think of it. All today I read “Hairstyles of the Damned” by Joe Meno, almost entirely start to finish.

I don’t really know what I’m doing at this college. In this state. In this City. In pre-med.  I think, I just wanted to leave, mostly. I wanted to go somewhere new and start over. I forgot what it meant though.

I don’t have the confidence to share what I think. The things I have to offer. In trying to be accepting of what others love, I have lost the courage to show them what it is I love. I am afraid of interfering. I know who I am a lot more than most, I believe, but I’m petrified of what others will think of it. 

I’m afraid to talk to girls, also.