Yes, I did just post a blog moments ago.

I did not, however, take it at all into the direction I had hoped it would go. Which could prove a point, but maybe not.

Oddly enough I feel mildly better at the moment. I found myself caught up in other blogs and paintings I wish I had the talent to create. I have so many that are half finished. And my mood swings are a tad ridiculous.

Now, where was I going.

I'm not sure, but it as absolutely stifling in here. It has to be at least 80 degrees. And It's eleven o'clock. That doesn't work for me. This is Oregon.

I want to write a book. An autobiography. I sort of have that started in my other blog, but I'm honestly terrified to write it. "Chapter 1" was easy pie. Easy easy easy pie. But there are much harder things to write about. To remember and actually put into words. I've told the story a million times, but in a robotic way. An emotionless way. I've read the script, but put no emotion into it. I've almost never gone into detail. And if you want a book to be worth reading, detail is an absolute must. A story without detail is like a birthday cake without candles (Speaking of, I somehow managed to have my birthday this year without blowing out a single candle? How could such a horrid thing happen?).

This book will need a title. But what.

Previously thought of options (and their problems):
+Fake it 'Till You Make it. --->Works perfectly in most aspects, but no originality whatsoever.
+Because, etc. --->I don't know where this came from, but it works. And I kind of like it, but is it

Ok, so I forgot the rest. But basically if I had to choose between those two it would be the second. Even though it isn't very colorful, vibrant. But I guess my story isn't exactly a pocketful of rainbows.