I find it kind of funny that I see myself as a stranger, people ask me questions about myself and I don't even know the answer. I suppose you could I'm changing all the time but even still I should at least have a little knowledge about myself. Sad thing is, I don't. I remember when I use to have quite a vocabulary and used big words because it felt nice, it felt like me. Now I even have trouble spelling passionate. I wish I knew where I took a turn for the worst, a step backwards, stopped walking the path that I found desirable.

I hope I can find the gates soon though, even though I was alone and pretty anti-social but at least I was extremely glad with where I was going. These past few days have seemed like a blur, I just can't seem to smile at my work. So far typing this out seems like the way out but in the future I don't see it pulling through. I could be pointing my finger at my English class but it wouldn't feel right. I wish I had a subject to write about more often but nothing comes to my mind anymore besides watching myself become frail and easily confused whenever I read someones work.
I'll take it upon myself to right about anything I can think of from here on out, whether it be ******** stupid s**t.

Here's to you, my soul and well being. May we smile when we have no one else but ourselves. Myself. Andrew Beck.