Happy New Year!

After an appropriate morning's worth of digestive pyrotechnics, I scrounged up my old journals. Ten years worth of stuff written down in three books, and that a little less than half my life. I wish I had a box to bury them in, but y'know me, archival to the core, so they are just together in the bottom drawer of a chest.

I'm starting a new one tonight: a new go at a new life. I've made up my mind that I'm going to be who I always wanted to be, starting with some vocalizations. I told my Mom I refuse to talk about Andrew and my other issues, and I emailed the Fuckwit himself and told him I can't deal with him right now and maybe never can.

The line's drawn here and no shit's gonna cross it, so there.

I'm making my plans: when I get back to MD I'm going to my counseling and doctor and going to get onboard with fixing my problems as well as they can be, and then get to work on stuff to make a better life for myself. There's no reason to hold back from anything: the worst thing that can happen is the Big Fat End and I'm not afraid of it. I don't particularly want to embrace it, either, but I'm not afraid of it.

So c'mon, 2005, bring it on. I fuckin' dare ya.