So this is the less articulate, less philosophical, less pulled together version of myself. The linguistically devolved blog. The one you can't search for. The one you can only find and read if I want you to read it.

Generally, this blog will be worse than the other one. Unprofessional at best, harsh at worst.

So now that that is established...

How could I explain home? It will probably drive me crazy, but that is because bad things have happened that I don't have any control over. I guess it's always made me crazy, really, because if I came from somewhere normal, I wouldn't have turned out like this. But it is still home.

It's been hot, I've spent a lot of time out on the river with my sister, a surreal thing to be doing in December, even in Atlanta. It seems impossible that I'm sleeping in the Bergen airport one night and laying around on rocks on the Chattahoochee River a few nights later. And I'm getting tan, which is always a plus.

I've finished three college applications and I'm working on a fourth as I write this. I absolutely loathe answering those same questions over and over and over again. This whole process is torture and the worst part is, I'm paying them 70 bucks an application for torturing me.

The gap year cannot come soon enough. I've been looking at apartments in Paris and even though we'll be staying in the smallest place ever, it will still be in Paris, and it will still be ours. I absolutely cannot wait. Busy streets and fine wine and good shopping and cheese on baguettes for dinner and cafes and French everything...mm. And only having to be around people that I truly enjoy. Why is it all still so far away?

I don't feel like I should be here. I'm not sure what it is, exactly, because I'm not unhappy. I'm enjoying the people and the country and everything fully. But it just doesn't feel like where I am supposed to be right now. And I'm not supposed to be at college, either. Just...I don't know. Life is lacking certain people at the moment. And it's lacking excitement. Everything is the same as it was when I left here a year and a half ago. And that's comforting in a way, but I want to be somewhere difficult again. Somewhere that's not so comfortable but is a hell of a lot more exciting.

Uruguay very soon, which means 2nd years very soon. And for fuck's sake, it's about time for me to go be somewhere that makes me crazy happy again. I'm sick of swinging between being extremely bad and just mediocre. I want to be ridiculously content again. Not just okay, but intensely good. The kind of good that can only come when you allow fate to just act upon you instead of trying to control everything. The kind of good that you don't expect but that turns out to be exactly right. Two weeks.

It's hard to look around and realize that nothing is the way you thought it would be. That no one turned out the way you thought they would. That you apparently have no idea where your life is going because you thought you had it all figured out up until now, but you obviously didn't, so how could you know a single thing about your future? I don't know, is "hard" the right word for that? Maybe strange. Or funny, in a cynical way. And when nothing is the way you thought it would be, it's still hard to let go of what you thought life was supposed to be at this point. It's hard to stop trying and forcing and fitting and forgiving, just to make it all work out like it all "should have".

Who knows what I need. I think the real answer is

I just need life to move.