On various subjects that are regrettably random

I have problems putting things into words. Now, this might sound strange, since I love to write, and I’m told I’m good at it. (And I am! Haha, must be more humble…lol.)

So get this. In my stories, I can go into detailed description of a forest by moonlight that is eerie and creepy and beautiful. But if I were to go into a forest by moonlight myself, my best description would probably be “Oh, yeah, it was really beautiful.” Seriously!
(Though actually, I’d probably end up being so creeped out by it that I’d run home screaming. Then I’d say, “Oh, yeah, it was creepy.”)

It’s the same with a lot of other things. I can look at a forest of trees turning color, I may be speechless for a moment at the beauty of it, and then I’ll say, “Oh, look at the pretty autumn leaves!”

So… *cough* profound.

Yeesh, if I was suicidaly depressed, I’d probably say, “Yeah, I’m kinda sad today.”

(Spell check says suicidaly is not a word. Spell check shall die.)

To deviate from the topic for a moment, it is really hard to think of anything to say when your brothers are giggling and wrestling with each other two feet away from you. One’s nearly 30, the other’s 13, and they’re both at the same maturity level. Sigh…

And they would have to open and close doors every 5 seconds. I do really hate it when people constantly open and LEAVE open doors near me. Closing doors has become my latest obsession—all doors MUST be closed!


All right, back to subject (well, sort of).

I have issues with being serious. (Though don’t get me wrong, I can be serious at times, [though boredom is my most common form of seriousness]).

This problem is caused by my first problem. I won’t be able to put what I feel into words, so, though I might want to, I won’t be able to think of anything rational to say that’s serious, so I’ll fool around or make a joke instead.

I didn’t used to be able to explain things clearly, either. I’d start to stammer, and the English language would fly out of my head, never to return until I had thoroughly humiliated myself. I’ve improved since then, I am happy to say. Now, when I am explaining things to other people, when the English language deserts me to my cruel fate, I start speaking in Elvish.

(See what I mean about being serious?)

You know, it’s easy to go from being serious to being funny, but it is only with the greatest difficulty that one may go from being funny to serious.

I shall leave you to ponder this deep, profound insight into life, my dear readers.

And, lest you forget, you must always remember this: Don’t say more, say Mordor!