Excessive

Here I am, it's 2:11am and I'm awake, tired, but desperate to be entertained. I'm trying to start new games, I'm going from the laptop to the couch, putting in a game, installing a game... I can't even keep my eyes open comfortably and here I am trying to start new games. I know it makes no sense, and a normal person would've gone to sleep two hours ago.

Obviously, as you could tell if you read earlier, I'm in a weird mood. I finished some games, and gave up on a few others, and it's opened up room to start a new game or two. This got me interested in looking around at new games, which would be why I'm still awake right now. I gave up though, I realized how retarded I was, and decided to try and write and just get ready for bed.

2:37am: Continued...

It's weird to look back at things sometimes. While it may seem self-indulgent, I'm not ashamed to say I frequently go back and read old entries that I've written, I mean... what other purpose does this website serve, if not that? Usually late at night, after I've written the days entry, I'll click the random button a few times and see what pops up. Sometimes it can be slightly depressing, or sad, sometimes it can make me smile, or inspire me, other times I'm not interested and I just skip by the writing completely.

It's weird how - at a glance - everything feels the same. It doesn't feel like much has changed, and I suppose not much has in my mind, the way my mind works, how I cope and deal with things, the way I let out creativity, and the things I do for relaxation (bathing, television and games). When taking a step back, it is kind of astounding how much has changed. Where I am, how I'm living, my day to day routines, having this job, my social circle (or lack of), all of these things are very different.

Being able to read back and see where I was and what I was thinking in past years is valuable, but can be dangerous. There was no specific point to writing any of this, except that it was on my mind, and it felt good to write out. -O-O- deal with it.

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