I forget a lot of things, form what I ate this morning to which character I’m using in a game. I don’t know why I’m very forgetful. It might be part of my personality. I don’t want to be that forgetful. It makes me feel like I’m dumb or something. I feel like I need to know what I did in order to be, like “better”. I can’t really describe it. I can also remember something I don’t want to and I can’t forget about it. It’s so weird and uncomfortable. I hate it when that happens, more than when I forget things.
NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT
There is ABSOULUTLEY NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT. I have no idea what to write about. I’ve already written about anything that comes to my mind so there is no point in writing the same thing. I’ve written about food, holidays (there are no holidays currently that are interesting), video games, stories, my vaccine… Oh I got my second covid vaccine the other day. Kind of similar to my first dose. I’ve also written about, walks, sports, my interests, my dislikes, my family, nature, cars, words meanings, my life, what is happening at the moment of updates, when I’m sick (which I haven’t been for a while and for that I’m grateful), furniture, more food, art, building, snacks, stuffys, shopping, birthdays (There aren’t any birthdays at the moment) and a lot more. As you can see I’m running out of ideas (or not if you are one of my sisters who think I should use the topic ideas doc, though I already wrote about everything that’s on there… sisters: please add some stuff on that doc). Anyway, I’m still trying to think of a topic, either for today or for next week if I keep on rambling about this topic of not being able to find a topic. I mean I hope I can ramble about this topic for a thousand words. It’s not very likely though. I don’t think I’m able to think of a topic without that doc at the moment (sigh).
I walked over to the door with my shovel ready. I opened the door to see… a man with a gun pointed right at me.
” Wait what is going on her-”
“Shut up pathetic little girl,” the man said. ” let me in the house or I’ll fire.” I let him in the house since I didn’t want to die yet. All the man did was look at the news and go.
“Say, what’s your name?” I asked him. He didn’t respond. Then he stood up and said “Thanks.” Then he left. An hour later I heard another knock on my door.