Becka's Journal

The End.
All right. Sorry avid readers, but I think it's time that I make this thing totally private.

I came to this decision while coming back from Florida. I made this decision because I need a place to vent, and while writing is great and all, typing actually is something that is like an outlet for whatever feeling I am feeling that is causing me to be expressing anything, and it never really matters even what I am typing. Just the action of typing. Kind of like driving, but much more productive and much much more cheap. Although driving is more soothing.

But that's not the point.

The point is that I can't write down what I want to, and that defeats the purpose. And I don't want to try and send subliminal messages to people who read this, and I don't want to cause people to get their panties in a twist, deciding that my life sucks because I have no control over my life and whatever and whatever, amen.

At this point, I am so angry with myself for letting it get to this point that I could punch myself in the face. Which I might do before I go to bed so I can actually fall asleep.

So, I guess this is to just say that this is the last entry y'all will be able to see. Thanks, you guys have been great. I guess I've decided that maybe my personal life should be personal. (Genius! I know.)

As I was making all my entries private, I noted a few things:

1) I am indecisive about the life of this thing, but nothing will change my mind now since it has taken me almost 3 hours to make each entry private individually.
2) I am too much of my mother's daughter to just delete the fucking thing and start fresh.
3) I started out writing fairly consistantly about things that were interesting, important, and/or amusing. With an exception here and there, I mostly write stupid fucking fluff now.

That's pretty much all there is to it, folks.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

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