It's so peculiar to be doing this again, but I guess it's okay since nobody reads it. I have done more stupid things than I can remember. If these are all learning experiences, what am I working towards? Because now I just want to huddle beneath my blanket and talk to myself. Because there's nobody who understands me like I do. I feel homeless, even though I'm exactly where I wanted to be and I'm supposed to be exactly who I wanted to be and I'm not the mess I was four years ago.

This can be felt only by Simon and Garfunkel.

Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.

I want to write again, I don't remember feeling that feeling of being special. Why do I feel like a talentless lie now? Why have I not been able to feel invincible while debating, and why am I still the insecure mess I was four years ago? Words were once all I knew, and now they're worn. I am worn. Everything is slowly eroding me to the point where I am not going to be left with anything. A life, a soul, nothing. See, even this entry doesn't sound like me. I miss me.