Helllooooo people.

I'm able to write again. Yay. Good for me.
It's a bit sad I still write things here, when I think about it, but still I do. I think it's the need every human being has, to talk to someone.
Bah, ignore my rambling; psychology class is getting to my head.
So, yeah, my "talent" has returned. I don't know what to make of it. I feel like I don't really write anything, that I just let my stories write themselves. I can't explain it. Once I get an idea, I have no idea where it's going to end up until I get there.
I don't know. Maybe I should be locked up in a nice padded room.
I know several people who'd like to see that.
...In other news I'm in an awful mood. School is a battleground anymore. I'm just mean to everyone, because I don't know who's going to turn around and stab me in the back tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I've scared away everyone who used to like me with my wierdness.

Wow. I really need a life. If anyone has read any of this, I'm sorry for wasting your time. Ugh. All I do is complain. Even on the internet. This is awful.
And yay for journal skins.