I don’t know what to say.

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@correaua
I don’t know what to say.

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I don’t know what to feel and that scares me.
Maybe I’m just scared.
I feel anxiety in the pit of my heart.
It’s a feeling I sort of forgot about. It feels cliche to write and say but it makes so much sense to me. I guess I’m writing it down to know that it might happen again and it’ll be okay.
Okay.
It will happen again.
It will be okay.
It will be.
Where is home?
I can't remember.
Maybe with you? That sounds wrong too.
Where is home? I want to go home.
This is the life I'm supposed to leave lead.

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I'm drowning and I'm on fire.
I'm new. I'm nervous. I'm just getting started.
It's so late.
429 isn't poetic. It's just...alone.
One day someone is gonna reach out and find me. I just know it. (Or I gotta believe it.)
Tonight was a long night. It's been a long night. Week. Month. Year.
Life.
It it hasn't been half bad. Certainly not dull.
Right now all I know is this shit isn't over.
"Next step."
I left my glasses
I hope that you put them on
Then you'll see like me
This is almost the anniversary. And then a Plank in Reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down -
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, (340) By Emily Dickinson I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That Sense was breaking through - And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum - Kept beating - beating - till I thought My mind was going numb - And then I heard them lift a Box And creak across my Soul With those same Boots of Lead, again, Then Space - began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear, And I, and Silence, some strange Race, Wrecked, solitary, here - And then a Plank in Reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down - And hit a World, at every plunge, And Finished knowing - then -

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I want to blog more. I'll eventually video blog instead I think...maybe. This is more personal though. Do people use tumblr? Is this really just a shout in the void now? Whatever. Writing helps and distracts me. I miss so much. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that some of those things (and people) are just gone now. A small part of me hopes I'm wrong and I hope I can find my way back to those people and those things. Those feelings. Realistically things won't be the same. That's scary because I don't know what they'll be. Moving forward, if and when I move forward, they will be better. They've got to be. I have learned so much and grown so much. I dunno. This is scattered and all over the place but so am I lately. My thoughts aren't a salad where I can just pick out what's in my head. It's a smoothie and everything just blends together. I'm afraid. I think I'm glad I've grown but I wonder if I think that because it's a lie we all tell each other. Who knows. I know I miss my childhood. I know I miss feeling-. I know I miss you. I know so much and so little. I want to change something. I need to change something. I hope this is a step to that.
If it kills me.
‘17
17 was a good age(?), I’m hoping 17 will be a good year. Resolutions for this year. _______________ Back to no soda. Get healthy, go for a jog, do some pushups, get fit.
Finish a film (or two?) Blog more. Write your children's book. Vlog more? Write more. Read more. DO more. Have a solid stand up set. Find your voice. Don’t go back to jail. (That’s a gimme, man) Watch more football (real), baseball, and hockey. Throw in basketball and football (american) if you’re feeling frisky. ORGANIZE YOUR LIFE. Start some damn series(zz). Master of None? LAND THAT TRICK MAN. Finish your 1SE. Love more. Get your basics covered. I believe in you, kid. Here’s to a new year.
12:34

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3rds
Roughly 1/3rd of the people I know in Charleston know I left, and that’s being pretty generous. 2/3rds of the people I know in Charleston have no clue where the hell I am. 3/3rds of the people I knew in Charleston don’t care how I am.