A midnight confession

Sometimes when I realize that I've got nothing better to do with my evenings, I go to my blogs and read. I look at my shallowness, my bouts of seriousness, my sarcastic humor, my weirdness - and I smile. I smile because I know that I can write. Well.

Most of the time, though.. I just wonder if I really do write well.

I'm not exceptionally good at anything, well, unless you count not blinking or moving for a long time.. and I'd like to believe that my writing skills are almost there.

But they're not.

And that's what makes me sad, sometimes.

I'm not a no-nonsense girl (too much negatives), but sometimes my affection for humour is what makes me less of a writer and more of a comedian.

*Insert temporary sad face here, it'll vanish tomorrow, hopefully.*