Grating, annoying and persistent realization

It happens with every single blog, every single attempt - every little wish to release the pressure of the thoughts and words that are constantly building and storing and building and storing and eventually evaporating all within my head because of whatever laziness that it is that prevents me from just writing the oh-so-wonder-fucking-ful thoughts down!

Whoosh.

Always starts with an ever-lovely running, ranting, developmentally poor sentence.

It only took a day but I think the frustration and agony of looking at my life's accomplishments at 30 is beginning to settle in. I'm angry at myself - I can feel it - I know it. For all the things that I'm still dreaming about but not doing anything about.

About the precariousness of stability in my life, and the laziness that jabba-the-huts all over any possible change to the situation.

About still being unsure - still craving, wanting, needing, and not being satisfied.

I'm angry at all of it - and I'm just dying to not be angry anymore.