Another apologetic title about not posting enough. (NOT NECESSARY FOR READNG Ranty and venty and angsty and blechhhh.)

I'm really sorry I've been neglectful again. I am so grateful that so many of you still read this, and it's really awesome that you do. I'm sorry that I don't have something better to write after all this time. Anyway, thank you guys so much.

Happy (late) American Independence Day! And reaaaaally late Canada Day! And all the other "days" between the first and the fourth...

And here's for the vent:

It's sort of ridiculous for me to feel bad about myself and this dead end I've mentally and emotionally driven me into. I mean, there are absolutely horrible and despicable things going on in the world right now. And I could be praying for people who need help a lot more than I do.

I waste soooo much time. This summer, I may have helped some people during Carefest, during other events related to Carefest, had some nice conversations with friends online, a few offline. But... I've just been overall unproductive. I haven't even been WRITING consistently. I've been spending all this money I keep getting for no reason. I mean, we're in freaking debt, and I know I should be more frugal and actually care more. I've been barely spending any quality time with my family.

And I've realized that I don't allow myself to really feel anymore. I keep myself protected from emotional pain by a shield and lens called fiction. I mentally translate anything horrible in real life, my life, my friends' lives, and other people's lives into some story. Sure, it might feel creative, it might inspire me to do something, but all I write are mopey, cruddy stories about people with suckish lives who get romance and lose it. I'm just a mopey person on the inside. And I can't seperate myself from fiction.

I recently had a conversation with a good friend of mine about fiction and fantasy and realistic fiction. That real life is boring, books aren't original, how Anne Rice is good, how the crud I read is just plain unrealistic in spite of its depressingness, etc. I was beginning to agree with her. Then I watched about three minutes (give or take) of Dr. Phil about this teenage girl who was TRYING TO CUT FAT OFF OF HER LEG WITH A RAZOR to PLEASE HER BOYFRIEND.

And I realized nobody really wants to take reality in it's purest, truest form. Not even me. I feel bad for that girl, I really do, but that is just ridiculous. And horribly painful. I want to help people... but, I'm addicted to fictional reality. As a "writer", my characters invade my head all the time. I'm more roleplayer than writer.

The friend I talk to everyday for hours on end, we don't talk a lot. We roleplay. On the phone. All day sometimes. We're trying to cut down, but it's hard. It's addicting, our characters' horrible realities. And we try on issues there like clothes. The drama is enough that we shouldn't even be watching ABC Family's teenmelodramaticsteamysoapoperas anymore.

Which brings me to something else.

I've recently been watching Pretty Little Liars on that channel. And I just finished the first book today.

I don't know why this stuff is so attractive. I've realized it's just... trash. Trashy drama, trashy scandals, trashy "secrets"... I mean, these girls all have suckish lives, and most of it is self-imposed. And of course, there's the terrorizing queen bee who doesn't go away even after she's "dead" (don't read this if you haven't read all the books/looked up spoilers like the fail I am). It's just... horrible, horrible trash.

Why are trainwrecks so attractive? Why do I want to watch and read and listen to this kind of crap all the time? Why on earth do I write it, roleplay it? Seek it out?

I admit, I like this stuff better when there's some realization of wrong and then some redemption. And I try to make my stories more rough around the edges than just plain edgy and melodramatic (even though they always come out melodramatic no matter how hard I try) .

And then, there's this:

The most important part of my life, which shouldn't just be a part: Jesus. God. My faith. I am so, so lukewarm, so out of it right now. I've let this fictional stuff take over my life and I don't want to give it all up. But I feel this bringing me down. And even so, I should use my talent for good, not trash. I try to make my actual stories have some sort of point to them. But... I don't know. Today has just been a day of thought. I needed to catch up on THINKING, because all I ever do is lose myself in fantasies of a romanticized version of the darkness of reality. Doesn't that sound horrible and ridiculous? Not to mention that I'm completely evil to all of my characters...

I think I need help. I want to be who He wants me to be. If all this fiction is part of His plan, if I have any talent at all, then I need to listen to Him better. But if it's just some idol in my life that I need to cut out, then I'll have to do that too.

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Thanks everyone. I love you all.