I should be writing Delivering Hope right about now. I’m 30k words in, which is great. It’s far further along than I thought I would be after everything. But I’m not writing right now.
Instead, I’m wondering about humanity. Yesterday was Friday 13th. Bad luck according to many, but I don’t think luck had much to do with a lot of the horror of yesterday.
The lights in Paris are out.
And the rest of the world is sharing its grief in France’s national colours. Such is the sadness of our hearts.
It’s been a long and somewhat hectic week. I think I’m probably allowed to tell you now that my lovely cousin and her family moved over here from the city last weekend.
This is extra nice because now we all get to see her more and hopefully things will start looking up for her a bit more after all the trouble she’s had. My mum has also been in hospital again with her on going problems, however, this was just a check up.
I’m not a great person. Sometimes I wonder why certain people put up with me. I stress and I worry far too much.
Sometimes people say things like they think I’m better than or more special than others. But I’m really not. I never will be. You should probably be prepared for a rambling post. Sorry.
I’ve realised I make comments about some things like I don’t care in order to hide the fact that I care too much, in case it bites back at me or something.
I’m pretty sure it won’t, but I worry a lot that people think I’m being silly and over emotional about things. I worry that they realise I invest my heart in certain things and certain people and make myself vulnerable. And I’m not sure why it matters that they know how vulnerable about certain things and certain people I am when they are friends that I’m talking to.
