I look at my life as a book that doesn't end until the day I die. As of this past Saturday, I've decided that I'm finally going to turn to the next page and start the next chapter of my life. It feels like I just skimmed Chapter 23 and barely touched the surface of the pages. I wish I could redo so much of last year except for one minor detail. And yet I'm still hovering on the last page of Chapter 23, like the last half page of the chapter. The part where the main character needs to clean a few things up before the author decides to move on to the next part of the novel. I feel like I've been re-reading the last sentence over and over again, and the narrator in my head keeps saying something on the lines of "Let go." Let go of what exactly? Well, pretty much everything that I've been keeping locked inside and putting off for the past year. Main example: fear. Fear is something that has run my life for far too long and I'm finally willing to fight back. I'm scared of literally fucking everything, and I'm not joking when I say my own shadow. Second example: accepting myself. I need to let go of all this shit that I've built around myself and need to stop caring or thinking that the entire world is judging me. "My name is Melanie. I will always love writing and painting my nails a million different colors. My dream sky is still indigo, I giggle at pretty much anything, and I'm pathetically sarcastic." And you know what, if you can't accept that, then fuck off because I'm growing so tired and wanting to change myself just because someone else told me to. Thirdly: friends. I have noticed that I have been losing friends as quickly as my brother is losing brain cells. Some of them I have been neglecting, several of them I have just lost contact with and I too chicken to call them up and ask to hang out. I used to have so many friends, but I pushed several of them away for my own personal reasons. My mother always says to make as many friends as you can, because you never know when you'll need them. Her words have rang true more than I like to admit. She also says that you shouldn't get yourself swallowed by other peoples issues. At first I thought that was a bitch thing to say, but I've started to understand what she meant. My mother is probably one of the strongest people I know, and I never give her enough credit. Lastly: love. I still have so much I need to learn about it. "We accept the love we think we deserve." Personally, I don't believe I deserve any love considering all the shit I've done to the people around me, but I know that I am loved, I just need to start accepting it. Overall, I need to become a better person for family, my friends, and most imporantly, myself. I need to snap myself out of this trance. It's been going on for far too long. In the words of Pat, "Don't give up on me, I'm about to come alive." (Or so I hope.)

I'd also like to address my writing for a moment. I dunno if any of my dedicated watchers have noticed, but my more recent pieces have grown to be more random, violent, and mostly apparent, sexual. I don't know why I'm suddenly focusing on violence and the sexual themes. I never plan out what I write. I never think about what I'm writing half the time. It just pours out of the pen and all the sudden I have a sheet of paper filled with random shit. But quite personally, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm writing for myself and not so much for the people reading my work, and frankly, it feels amazing.

On an ending note, Flyleaf's new CD comes out tomorrow. Anyone else pumped? I sure as hell am.