Hello.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

The vertical cursor is blinking almost as rapidly as my own eyes. It's like we're playing the opposite of the staring game with each other. I'm looking at this white page as if I don't know what I want to say. But the trouble was never that I had nothing to say; the trouble is that there's too much. And yet as I sit here, my mind is going blank as if it's scared to present anything once the opportunity arises. My unconscious mind has stage fright. Wonderful.

I guess the main point of this blog is to chronicle my thoughts as I struggle with being a 19 year old lower-middle class American woman of mixed descent in Midwestern America. I don't care if no one on this Earth reads this. It's important to myself that I channel my inner monologue into something that I can come back to later and reflect on. Some people keep dream journals or food journals. I want/need this thought journal.

And if there is someone reading this, I hope this blog proves to be mildly amusing/entertaining/thought-provoking.

Even after I've said all that I've needed to say for now, this dumb cursor is still blinking at me. I'm just glad I'm alive and I can blink back at it.