Pandora.

Avatar was fucking awesome.

I know. People say it. People either love it or hate it, really. But the effects were spectacular, and basically, it made me realize how sad our world is turning out to be. We have the Internet -- this massive, powerful technology at the tip of our fingers, allowing us to transport information across the world within seconds or fractions of seconds. We have air conditioning, heating systems, microwaves. We've harnessed solar energy and light energy and light waves and electrons and electricity... But we're not happy. Not really. James Cameron is a genius. I want to write, now. I want to write something worth remembering, then making it into a film adaptation to teach others. I want to create a whole new world with my bare hands, so badly, because I feel so intimidated and disgusted.

There. I said it.

This blog is not really useful to me... I just want to post things I like, so that I can remember them when I'm older. Instead, I take pictures of myself and pose against walls and furniture, as if I really know what I'm doing. I spend so much time on the computer, it's crazy. I feel so limited and drained. I'm so sorry.

There are bigger problems in life, I know that. Our family's money problems, arguments, my grandfather's health, divorce. But those are not only my problems. I think I'm just waiting for other people to fix them because I don't know how to. I bite my tongue instead of talking now, because when I speak, I offend others. When I'm with my friends, I don't know how to talk properly, and instead, talk about things that do not interest me with a detached sort of tone which makes me sound arrogant and annoying. I know that but I don't know how to change that about me.

End.

Rant over.

Good.

God, I know when I talk about myself, myself, myself, I sound so selfish and spoiled and naive. I just want to be a little less self-centered, please.

On the bright side, I have good friends. I'm not homeless, nor dying of end-stage cancer. The world is still sane, and my molecules don't break apart randomly. I have music, or what's left of it, and another year-and-a-half from now, I'll be on my way. Yeah, it's scary, but at least, I won't feel so bad about everything. I also have words, and writing. And books... although they interest me less now. (Timeline by Michael Crichton is so sluggish... I can't get past half the book right now.) Maybe it's just me, but Douglas Coupland only really had a few good books (jPod, Gum Thief?) and Mr. Palahniuk's writing is more for shock value, and I don't understand half of his themes/theories (or conspiracies?) as I pretend to. And I don't have any favourite authors anymore, so that's kinda sad... Suggestions?

A/N: notice how my grammar was completely and absolutely perfect?! This is what I have turned into! Capital letter-ed, period-ending, full-sentenced FREAK. Maybe it's for the better.

Anyway, still have a lot of homework to get started on! Bye bye, blogosphere.