Anna: Thanks

I was suicidal once upon a time, in junior high and my first year of high school, before I met most of you. I've never felt quite that way again, and I really think its because of you. Even if we don't see each other much anymore or even speak much, we always seem to pick up where we left off. You are literally the best friends I have ever had, and I don't know what I'd do without you.

I know we might (probably will) go separate ways in life. Our horizons will expand as we learn and grow and include more and more people in our personal bubbles, and that's okay. I'm lucky to have had you guys, and to still have you in whatever capacity I do. Sometimes I honestly don't know why people keep me around, but I think I'm starting to care less and less. I know its possible to choose a family instead of simply being born into a broken one. And the fact that I've had that experience, that I've had all of you, for however long or short a time, keeps me alive.

I'm trying to be happy. Its easy some days and unbelievably difficult some others. But I'm trying.

Anna: Short and sweet

I need to get out of Portland.

Really though. I need to leave and live in a different area for a while, because I am 98% certain that this place is driving me crazy. I've hardly recognized myself the past few months, and I hate that. I absolutely hate it.

AJ- A Practice Round

I'm wracked with guilt.
Actually, I'm being melodramatic. The situation is not terribly dire. I just feel extremely disgusted with myself for being so terribly lazy in the last few weeks after graduating. I have a lengthy list of chores I must accomplish. Graduate school applications, job hunting, internship hunting, essays, testing. Life after graduation does not look as glorious as it once seemed.
This is a practice round. I can't remember the last time I wrote a piece which I have felt is more than adequate for anything. No longer have I felt the immense satisfaction and pride after finishing a paper required for class. I no longer remember more than a mere inkling of the work that Mrs. Asgill and Mr. Huth have so painstakingly drilled into our mind. What is left now is a faint memory of the satisfaction and a mourning of that feeling. I want it back. At least, I want to write something that I would be able to reread and not feel I had merely thrown some words together, not like what I'm doing at the moment. I want it to give the reader that, at least a some point, there had been a little blood and sweat infused with the work. That it's worth reading, that I'm worth considering. So, this is my practice round. My warm up, my motivation to begin again.