This is it.

I lay in my bed, laptop by my side. I look down at my kitten and all her innocence.She is
magnificent. Books are scattered all over my floor. I see the moon through my window.
I think about my life so far and what I plan to do. I want to be an author, an astronaut,
a racecar driver, and a choreographer. Too much? Maybe so.

My wrist is aching for some reason. I hate it. My mom is downstairs asleep in her chair. She
has been through so much for being so young. Only 43 years and more life experiences than a
60 year old. It depresses me. I get a text message from Vernon. He completes my life
somewhat. I think he is actually a good person.

Yesterday, I was at his house. We watched movies and cuddled. Cute, huh? As I type this
I keep getting pop-ups on my laptop. I click the exit button and it pops up to say hello again!
Just like a pesky neighbor. I'm so sleepy but I want to stay up. Sometimes I feel that
sleep takes away from life. As I reread that sentence I just typed I think I am psychotic.

This seems as if this is one random piece. Well, this is true. This is my style. This is my life.
If you do not like it, then you can kiss my random writing ass. Writing does not have to
be perfect. It is what you want to do with it. Life is the same.