I don't know what's wrong with me...

Why the hell do I want you people to read this stuff? I mean, no offence to you or anything, but what is wrong with me that I actually want people to know what I think? I must be either totally vain or incredibly stupid. I don't know why I would think that what is on my mind and why I behaive the way I do is at all interesting to anyone besides me and my self.

I'm not famous, rich or even "Elle MacPherson pretty" (gillmore girls refrence.) I'm a pretty normal 20 year old girl with a job, and no real life. I must be pretty interesting. Then again, this is perhaps the most boring part of my life thus far. I know the most interesting people, but I'm not doing anything. I actually have a full time job, yet I don't go anywhere. That probabally has something to do with the fact that I'm not 21 yet, or maybe that my friends (for the most part) aren't the partying type.

I could encourage the world to party, but I choose not to. I'm complacent sitting on my ass at my little computer job not doing anything, allowing the world to pass me by. Every time that I get a bit of passion (yeah, there's a scorpio rising in the frail aquarian sun-frame you see before you) I either let it be, and add to what will one day be my first ulcer or I blow up in a firey rage. Well, I wouldn't call it a rage at all. P-chan doesn't rage. P-chan complains. P-chan is annoying. P-chan needs to stop talking in third person.

I haven't really written anything in a long time, and it feels so good to come back home to the world of typing on a blank screen. This is my canvas. Well... the world is my canvas. I sing, I dance, I write, I draw, I talk and I act. I'm agressivly verbal. Yes, I'm drawing a smile as I say that statment again, I'm agrressivly verbal. A book said so.