Will is my friend.

Here's a good word: marzipan. It's like marshmellow. Mmmmmarzipan. But I can never find a stanza, a line, a sentence to put it in. Because it's one of those pretty independent words, but it's ugly around other people.

I'm scared about leaving for HSU. I'm leaving, that's settled. But, damn, am I scared. I know I have terrible social skills and that I'm paranoid. These two things don't combine to make a sexy friend. They combine to make a paranoid and reclusive friend who pisses you off a lot because he thinks someone is following him home all the time and won't be nice to your friends because nice is so goddam hard sometimes.

I've convinced that I try too hard to write everything on here. I think too much and everything stutters under the weight of all the things I'm trying to say but can't say and the things I can say stagger, stray, and aren't as impactful because of this shaky weight. Scary, isn't it, that I could be better. I know, because I'm so fucking great now. < /sarcasm >

I want to be a Youth Pastor but I've never worked with Jr. Highers or High Schoolers. And that scares me because maybe I HATE these age groups and am wasting all my time. I hope to connect with a church up in Arcata that doesn't have any people I know so that I can work with the Jr. Highers.

But these are worries. And worries are God's. I have a lot of'em. You guys stay safe.