Thursday, September 16, 2010

First Blog

I had in the past created a blog before this one. Avery unsuccessful blog considering I never used it and forgot everything from my password to the e-mail I used and my user name. Must have been something around Eyes Chambers. I have used the name for many things. I change my mind so often I can never quite stay on the same page with myself for too long. I'm not sure why this is.

Lately I have been less and less inspired to write in general. And also a shocker, more so in my own journal. It has become my worse enemy for some reason beyond me. I have been depressed enough to write in my journal yet the pages lay empty for many days. I don't usually write when i'm happy which has always been interesting to me. I like to keep dates of things that have happened to me for a record. I have the worse memory on the planet for my age and so when I build up all of these events in my life sometimes I would like to have a reminder of which came first. My memory works worse in that department. I can sometimes think that something that happened three weeks ago happened two months ago. Many strange looks come to me in my life believe me of this.

Now that I think more of this blogging thing, I think that it can help me with my writers block. I still write little things here and there but what I really want is to get back to my real dream. The dream of writing my own book. To say that I had finally finished a story. A real story. Not just a tiny poem with a picture to paint in your mind. Pictures are easy. There's nothing to it. At least for a person like myself. But to tell a good tale. To tell a story of fiction which would touch some hearts and make them smile and enjoy your book as a time passer. That would be a dream. A huge dream of mine. I have many issues with this though. Dreaming things and never doing much to accomplish any of it. I have dreamed since the day I was born.

My mother told me, that when I was born, I never cried. She thought I was dead at first. She told me that I just simply stared around the room. Almost emotionless. As a baby she never knew if I needed a diaper changed or when I might have been hungry because I rarely cried. She would wake in the morning and check on me in my crib. I would be laying there staring and she would get worried because she had no clue as to how long I had been awake. Perhaps starving without a care. In some ways I'm still like this. If there is anything wrong with me physically I get very quiet. I guess we all have our "things".

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