It's weird to just write into thin air. I know no one will read what I have to say which is probably a good thing because I don't even know what I'm writing about. A year ago I was writing about seemed so clear and today life's experiences have dwindled most of my clarity. I always had journals growing up but I was that kid who would write in it for the first week and then forget about it, and all my entries would be "today I went to school...", real exciting! But I have stuff up in this head of mine, may not be profound, but it makes me think a little harder. I wonder why I fear so much. I fear the actuality of change yet I dream about different places and more experiences. I fear failure. I fear failure so much I don't even give some things a chance. I fear that my fears will hold me back. So basically I fear fear itself... which means that I know it's not worth it yet I can't overcome it. It's incredibly frustrating. It takes more energy and makes me more introverted when I'm afraid of something that I can basically become mute. It's as if all my social skills walk off stage and leave me to my twisted tongue and mixed up words. My nerves get the best of me. My stomach starts to twist. I get warm and anxious, uncomfortable. And then if I walk away I will think about how ridiculous I was for no reason at all. It's completely inside my head, I'm completely inside my head. Hiding in there can't be healthy. Sometimes I come out to stretch my legs and an invigorating splash of confidence comes over me, but it can be hard to hold on to that. Something new and foreign comes up and I run back inside my head to deal with it. I want to deal with it then, not later. Later only causes added stress and procrastination until I never deal with it at all, and I never figure out why I felt the way I did and why I responded that way. And it never really goes. It's always there in the back of your head until a similar incident occurs and you are again unprepared.