I'M starting to feel like it's been a...

Long while since I started this short story I'm doing, and I already feel like it has been forever.
One day, I want to be able to just sit down and type out ten pages, but I feel like that's never going to happen.
Not that I expect myself to be there tomorrow, or next week, or even in a few years, but still...
Every time I sit down to type a paragraph it seems to go pretty quickly.
Like, I'll look up and a half-hour has gone by.
You know, I just don't think it should take that long to pull a paragraph into existence.
*poof*

When I read what I have typed so far though, I'm extremely happy with what I have.
I am doing a lot better than I thought I would.
Low expectations are good to have. You either do a lot better and are happy, or you fail and it's not all that bad.
Little by little it's coming along, though, and one day it will be done and I will be satisfied.

Yeah... I've been considering posting a WIP of it on dA to get criticism and to see if it's even worth finishing.
On the other hand, I don't know if I want to ruin the surprise, or if it would help me at all.
Unnecessary uploads are a burden on everybody. So, I don't know.

Besides the thing I'm working on now, I have one other really awesome thing I'm doing.
Every time I have an idea, I've been trying to follow through on it... It's going well, I think.

When I finish with these though, I'm not to sure what I'm going to do next.
It's not to often I have kind of interesting ideas like this to write about.
The next time I do might be a long while...
However, they might not. Maybe they'll just keep coming at a steady pace and I won't run out for a while...

Moving on... Hmm... I... Don't think I have anything more to ramble on about.
Eventually I will though, so don't worry. It's not the end of procrastination posts...
¿'kay?

I also have this fear smouldering inside of my chest, eating away at the rational part of my brain.
My heart has been racing for the past few hours...
It makes my stomach feel like it's suspended from my lungs, and it hurts...

Life Regrets

Hmm... I hate the colour of my bedroom. And most everything in it.
I want to change it. All of it. It needs to be so different than what it is now.
... I want to paint it red. RED.
But I can't. It's much to large and I have no money.

*sigh*... I want to be able to put an adjective on myself that completely sums me up. After I find that one adjective that fits me, I can find the style that fits that adjective, and then I will finally know what I'm looking for when I go clothes shopping. And in the future furniture shopping. But in the meantime I feel so blank; so lost looking for an identity. Which I guess is kind of good because I'm a blank canvas; I can do anything with myself. But I just don't know what colour to lay down first. Or what kind of paint to use for that matter... Acrylics or oils? Or watercolours? Or maybe I should go a different direction and perhaps use charcoal or pastels. I don't know...

Hmm... Now I want to try and paint how I feel. Maybe I will do that. I have canvas downstairs. The only problem is that I can only paint rubbish. It's all just... poppycock.

I guess the main feeling of tonight is as follows...
I don't know who I am.
Or what I am for that matter.
And I feel lost.
And I feel like I'm going to be lost forever.
Drifting about in a large white space with no sense of direction.