I'm unhappy...
Sometimes I stop and think, or watch a movie, or hear a song and I think of things I used to do. I used to write stories. I used to write poems. I used to walk barefoot to the beach without thinking about stepping on glass. And I wonder why I stopped. I feel like I’ve disappointed my past self in this respect. So I start something up again and I feel better. Maybe I have too many hobbies?