I never write on here. I'm not sure why, but today I'm a little bit bored so I thought I would write in here. :)
I'm currently waiting for my friend Matt to get home from work so we can go to the beach. My arms are pretty tan right now, but fading fast, and then rest of my body really needs to catch up, so hopefully I can soak in some color while I'm there.
I've been back in Milwaukee for 3 days now, and I kind of already miss home. I don't know what it is about being there that I love so much, I just feel at peace there. So many people I know hate going home, hate being bothered by there family to spend time with them, hate not having their freedom when their home, and to be honest they are sound so fucking angsty to me. How is it such an inconvenience for you to spend time with the people who gave you life, fed you, clothed you, raised you, and (in most cases) are still paying for either your school, your housing, your food, SOMETHING. I mean maybe people are actually grateful, but just don't actually like their parents. They probably love them, obviously, but you can love someone and not particularly like them. I got really lucky in that department. If you spend a small amount of time with my parents you can see exactly why I am the way I am. I have such obvious personality traits of each of them, but not entirely like either one of them. They are genuinely loving, happy, funny people. I wouldn't trade my parents for anything, and I honestly really like spending time with them. It's fun, like I'm with friends, rather than feeling obligatory and stifling. It's the same with my brother, he's probably my best friend on this planet, and I'm seriously blessed to be able to say that.
Anyway, I got sidetracked. As I had been saying, besides that I love being with my family, I'm not entirely sure why I like being home so much. But it was wonderful to have been able to go back for so long, I haven't left Milwaukee for that long in all the time I've been living here, it was incredibly refreshing. I just feel more at ease there, and more myself. I found myself researching books to read that I had been meaning to read for years, before I started getting all jumbled inside. I just felt like I kinda lost myself for a few years, and I'm just recently feeling like myself again.
And now that I have been feeling back-to-me, I'm realizing how much of my life I'm unsatisfied with. It sounds mean, but my friend group is a big one. Not that I don't like my friends, because I do, but with the exception of maybe 2 or 3 people, they aren't the people I would normally become close with. I'm really only close with Matt and Sarah, everyone else just seems to fill space in some room everyone is getting fucked up in. That's not friendship to me. I rarely see any of them sober, go shipping with them, watch movies with them, have a sober fucking conversation with them, and it's sad. I miss having real friends. I kind of wish I lived more downtown, by people who didn't live theirs lives counting down the minutes until they can get belligerent again. Maybe actually be able to go out and meet new people, people who have actual interest in getting to know me, and sharing an actual friendship with me. This all just makes me really sad.
Anyway, I've been reading a lot again lately, so I thought I would post a little review of each book I read from here on out, for anyone (most likely no one) who has any interest in what I have to say about some literature. Not likely, but whatever! So I'm going to wrap this baby up, and write my first review. Please everyone, contain your excitement.
