It's not you, it's me.

It seems like if you really want to have a lot of friends, the best idea would be to become a druggie. Sure, you're killing brain cells, and maybe you won't remember everything that happened last night, but hey, you know people. I was contemplating all of this earlier, right before I returned a few phone calls. Both of the people I spoke with answered the phone laughing and I could hear other people in the background. They have friends. Neither are druggies. There's something wrong with me, I'm sure of it. Maybe it's insecurity, considering that last statement. Who knows. I find myself on occasion questioning if I truly have some sort of mental illness or serious problem, and this life I've been supposedly living is something I've created in my mind. I'm such an ameteur at this. No, not blogging. Well I guess a little. But I was talking about living. I really have no idea what I'm doing or who I'm trying to be. Well, good thing I've got awhile to figure all this stuff out. All the 16 years to this point...Practice. Because I say so.

This is quite possibly the most mental blog I've written so far. It's just absurd. I just pour out all the thoughts in my head, all in my blog. Not all in this chapter here, but you get some interesting tidbits for sure. Anyways. Goodnight.

Christopher Michael Tucker.

Song of the day: "Chia-Like, I Shall Grow" by Say Anything.