Day One.

It’s about time I got around to doing this.

Here, I solemnly swear to write at least 600 words every day.
I keep thinking about how much I regret taking science because I have nearly no scope to pursue what I really want to – my words and my music. But what my mum says IS true, at a fundamental level – I want to write, but can I? Will the words accepts me as one of their own and take me in? I’ve been itching to find out. I’m also direly in need of some life organisation. Thus, I have decided that pouring my thoughts out onto the screen is much preferable to having them on repeat in my head. There is, of course, the little thrill I get from knowing that my thoughts are on display for the world to see – much more than usual because this is prose and this stuff is flowing from my finger tips as I think it. I don’t pause, and perhaps that will cost me. I am willing to wait and watch. There isn’t anyone reading this except a few close friends and some disinterested random stranger, is there?

Hey, stranger. I’m sure you mean no danger. Sup? 

Okay. Reason number two I’ve decided to start writing is because I just cannot keep my daisy-eating focus, dammit!  (Daisy-eating being the swear word of choice to replace. Um. Choicier things. I’m trying to quit, stop judging. )
For example, I got caught away in the fantasy of a stranger reading this and recognizing me two years in an airport in Barcelona , because, yes, this is how open this thing is going to be (I hope).
I am scared though. Whenever I open this sweet laptop o’mine, I always end up online, generally on Quora. While that isn’t as bad as Facebook or Instagram or Pinterest or ScoopWhoop or, god forbid, there is a new xkcd comic out, it’s still a time eater (time gobbler. time scarfer. time wolfer.). I sit here right now. It’s nearly 3:30 am on the 10th – oh crap it’s the tenth already!- and I have a fest coming up. I’m in a band where I drum (very badly, before  you get all excited. I have zero formal training and everything I do is by ear),  and I’m participating in a warped quickie debate where you are given a topic, two minutes to prepare and then 5 minutes to speak on both sides of the topic. Which I, obviously, have no preparation for. And then there is the mega-project due day after tomorrow that my partner and I have been working on from the beginning of last year and are nowhere near concluding. I have to type up the algorithms and the report, because we have to print it tomorrow. And finally, I have records to write out and draw diagrams and organize into tables for, that’s due tomorrow at 9:00.
No, do NOT mention that I’m a 12 grader with all sorts of expectations and responsibilities from all sorts of friends and relatives, because I know, alright? I just choose to still sit here and type this stuff out, with Snow Patrol’s Greatest Hits, Young the Giant and Bastille on repeat, because I had more stuff to do that I cleared out. Mental prioritizing is greatly catalyzed by physical manifestations of the acceptance of our current unchangeable realities. Oh, I live in a pigsty of a room. My poor mum, she’s kept mum (ha! :D) the whole past month because we have exams nearly every weekend and public holiday and she thinks I’ve been studying. I must clean out my room, at least for her. Tomorrow evening, I promise you guys —oh dear lord, aren’t promises to the vast empty internet enough for you? My mum just came in, saw me doing ‘some blog stuff’, and talked to me in a tone heavy with anger, sleep and sadness. At her daughter forgoing sleep in the night yet wasting time during the day. But I have no time during the day to waste. Sigh. Anyway. —that tomorrow I will be writing about how I cleaned up my room after coming back home having printed my entire project and band practice having gone well. And then prepare because the day after is HEATS! While I am in no capacity a sporty person, I have been persuaded to make a fool of myself running.  I look forward to it. 😀
Right now though, I’m going to complete typing out the algorithms, write two experiments and salvage what little sleep I can after it’s all done.

Huh. That looks pretty long. I wonder how many words I wrote today.
All this typing has made me hungry.

P.S. WordPress tells me this is 787 words.