And so often it feels like I’m doing something wrong. Like my decisions are immoral or somehow I’m not doing the right things. I think I am doing the rights things, and I just have problems.

It would be nice to get an MFA in writing. I would like a career as a novelist, really, it sounds awesome.

But my storytelling skills are not the best.

But I don’t know. I wrote a story in elementary school once, and it made me feel amazing, I loved being the creator of a world. I think we may still have the book somewhere in the garage. Short book. Few pages long.

I did my French exercise for the night, and this weekend I should study some data science. Probably in the evening next week, as well. All I have to do is watch videos. I should hunker down and get ready for that.

You don’t know (or maybe you do?) how hard it is to pay attention to things when you’re this restless. Which apparently can be a symptom of depression or depressive psychosis, or whatever.


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