Typing this from the inside of a McDonald's. This isn't going to be a full-blown post, mind. It's just...a resolution. A little something to keep me from chickening out, I guess.

I've made up my mind. I'm going to go through the shit in the back of my car, no matter how long it takes or how weird it gets. I'm sick of having nothing to work towards, sick of lacking purpose. Survival is kind of pointless if you don't do anything with your life, and for all I know, all those books and papers might contain something that could help someone. Sure, I might regret this later, but tragedy is better than complete lack of a story.

Speaking of stories, I'm almost caught up on the blogs I'm following. It's...it's strange, seeing how so many lives can go to hell in less than two months. It's even stranger when you realize that there are people, actual, real people behind the words. It's mindblowing how much has changed, how much I should remember but don't. I'm not really sure how to describe it.

(Also, Elaine...thanks for the push.)