Once upon a time, I decided unless he was Ewan McGregor. It was in June of '08, and it wasn't entirely literal. I still stand by what I meant.

(Oh, look, a journal skin kind of!)

I'm beginning to understand the world around me again, and I really like it. I love not knowing where I'm going or what's going to happen; it's an adventure. It gives me a reason to keep turning the pages, to be excited about every day, without set goal in mind. I don't know what's going to happen, and I'm dying to find out.

I've learned a lot of things lately, about people around me and about myself. I think I'm understanding more in those aspects too. But more on that some other time.

I drew four pictures yesterday. Four. Bigger ones, too. Three of them were actual scenes, with backgrounds. One two of them are finished, and one of them is halfway done (beginning the background now.) I also started another today. I also finished-finished my imaginary boy, for the tenth time. I'll be scanning these all soon, so they'll be good.

It's been a while, but things are finally falling back into the way they need to. I'm in a good place, and even though I know it will inevitably change for better or for worse, I'm happy here.

The only moving I feel like doing, for now, is to a warmer and fuzzier place with pillows, a kitty, and a great book.