Lack of writing only means

that:
1. I am very busy, or
2. I am having a good time.

So, both then. It's too easy to write about negative things, everyone knows that. But writing about the good things just kill me. It's so hard to put it into words, and then, when you do, it doesn't come out right at all. It's too hard to pass on that emotion so I never really do. But yeah, things have been going great, thanks for asking. Fish is still alive, I think he was just getting used to the new rocks or whatever. There are so many things I could write here right now, but I kinda don't wanna get into anything too specific, don't want to get in trouble! Also, I kinda think I "overwrote" myself on January 8. See, I spent all day flying, 11 hours to be exact, and I wrote like hell all that time. My goal was to fill up every single page in one of my old school notebooks, the ones with 70 pages, but it probably had like 60 (yeah, I only used like 10 for class, well, 5 for class, the rest for writing letters...). Anyways, I wanted to fill that whole thing up, and I wrote nonstop for as long as I possibly could, my hand hurting and everything, but I only managed to write 35 pages, without skipping a single line, so I think that's pretty good considering I overestimated myself thinking I could write around 60 pages by hand in 11 hours (more or less), I don't think anyone can do that really. So now I have this notebook half filled with thoughts and analyses and descriptions and observations, and I haven't really written anything since. It was definitely an experience and I just felt like writing even more, but it kind of backfired into making me lazy to write again. Oh well, who's going to read it anyways, right? I don't expect to publish anything in my life, I'm very much selfish with my skills. Sorry world, but I'm for me!

There is no substitute for the comfort supplied by the utterly taken-for granted relationship. ~Iris Murdoch