I'm the reason I can't have nice things.

That's probably the longest post title I ever came up with; at the advent of this blog, I tried giving longer titles to my posts; inevitably, I fell back to the habit of donning one word for each post, it does feel so much more mysterious and intriguing, no? At least, it does to me. Titles are important, they point out the main idea of your posts, they give a sense to your (non-existent) readers as to what to expect of the barrage of words they're about to dive into. My problem is that I lose track of my idea two sentences into the paragraph, just writing myself into oblivion when I'm talking about donuts at the start.

Alright so, donuts. I realized one of my many flaws mid-sentence, this very sentence, is that I tend to write out posts based entirely upon conversations and dialog the exact way I play them out in my head. That's gonna be bad, I think. Not to mention the fact that I don't really have any nice conversations in there either. No wonder I still can't write good readable stuff.

Reading back the previous incarnation of my blog, there's just so much nostalgia, just floating around, suffocating me. It has ten times the number of posts; many bitterness, some sweetness, a bittersweet collective of my high school years. With a couple press of a few buttons, I deleted that. Why? There's probably some heart breaking and gut wrenching back story here but I won't share, because I'm dark and cryptic that way. lol.

Just kidding, I don't know why either.