So, I have this problem.
I'm terrible at keeping a journal. I always start off writing in one every day and then eventually I become preoccupied.
Today, Sept. 28, 2009, I've decided I need more consistency in my life. If it starts here, well then that's just the way it has to be.
Let's pretend I'm not real. Like I'm that little space in our brain's that can't decided between reality and imagination. That's where I can go if you please.
Let's act like I'm making these up, because, well no one likes to admit things so why should I be any different? But I supposed I've always been different, so there's no point in contradicting myself like I