I've Been Busy

   

 Given the amount of free time I have in a single given day, I thought I would have so much more time to write and add to this blog. You know, really flesh it out almost within a week. But I guess when I figured such things would come to fruition, I don't think I ever took into account the possibility that I might meet some really awesome people. As if finding solid, truly worth while friends never even crossed my mind as plausible, and therefor time would be no issue for a whole semester. But quite evidently, I was very wrong. But I'm not complaining. Sure there are dreams and aspirations I'm striving for, pros and cons, not to mention some real pressure to succeed in life now, but I think I'll be just fine.
     It seems that after about 4 weeks I've finally gotten past that initial buzz and excitement of everything. That feeling that I have to be a part of all things everywhere at all times. And with that, comes more time to of course, enjoy the calm and truly find my footing... And keep writing this.
     I've always been one to notice patterns in things. Even ones that aren't quite numerable, or definable. Like certain sequences or shapes in wallpaper, or symbols in rock slabs, or creatures in clouds. So it's a given that coupled with my introspective-ness, I'd also happen to notice patterns in my life. One pattern being relative to this very thing I'm doing now- writing.
     It seems that at every point in my life when I've found myself stressed or otherwise relatively bothered, I've always looked to writing in its many forms to be my outlet. The subject matter of the writing was irrelevant, if not only an obstacle in the grand scheme of things for the most part. It seems that relief came from just being able to express myself in my own words, raw and unhindered by uncontrolled emotions or mental gaps. Which makes sense because as I kid I found speaking my mind and what not very difficult.  Or speaking up in general. Anything that draws attention to myself, and my thoughts. To this day I still do, holding off on loaded questions and speech until absolutely necessary.
    There's no need for diagrams or line graphs tracing my "levels of happy" to explain the pattern, because it is overtly simple. When I keep up with my writing, whatever fissures may form in the foundation below me, I've always got a level head and solid footing. My mind is clear, heart is light, and therefor able to do away with the thieves of happiness soundly. I become content. But when I don't keep writing: the thoughts clutter, holes in defenses are exploited, and my functionality as a human being takes a nose dive. Sure I may not be the most expressive person in the world- relatively detached at most times much like my father. But that isn't to say I am emotionless. And when you start to feel too many emotions at once, they all cancel out and without warning you start to feel nothing at all. And that's the worst feeling of them all. Beyond feeling empty, is feeling nothing. And that's when things get serious.
    So, moral of the story, I'm going to really try to stay healthy and write more.