I cannot comprehend my life. I give up. It is beyond my simple mind to ever understand what on Earth (or elsewhere) could possibly make all that happens happen. I certainly am not the one making everything happen; I'm simply not that powerful.
I don't feel like bragging about my life though. To be honest, I'm a little scared. Paranoid. Everything has been working out too well. Like someone is writing a kid's book. Sure, I run into problems, but then everything is magically overcome when I say "please" and "thank you" and remember to wash my hands. It is way too easy.
I haven't felt like writing about my life, my ideas, my thoughts, or anything that has to do with me at all for awhile. It's just growing on my subconscious more and more. As if talking about me will make someone realise that whoever is in charge made a mistake and forgot to give me the hellish life everyone else seems to experience, and they'll give me what I deserve.
I'm excited, happy, appreciative, thankful, and, as I've recently realised, not just nervous, but scared out of my mind. And I'm not sure I'd have it any other way.
I'll post something for Thanksgiving (in America) tomorrow, but I'll be spending my weekend recording music, so I won't post again after tomorrow until Monday or Tuesday.
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