I know you're sick of me...

Yes, my fair readers (both of you), I know this is my third blog today. But, for once, I'm genuinely happy. I feel like if I write down why I'm so chipper, I'll stay that way. HERE'S HOPING!

As I reflect on how awful this past week has been, I've started to analyze it to find what exactly has been the cause of my melancholy. In English, I'm trying to figure out why I was sad. I've spent the entire day pondering, and I think I've come to a suitable conclusion.

I THINK TOO MUCH.

I'm in that perplexing situation of my father being a borderline genius. I don't mean to toot his horn for him, but he's got a PhD, he is fluent in 7 languages, he's a professor of Ancient Latin and Greek, and his poetry is published in the highest-esteemed magazines in the world almost weekly. So, as his son, I'm in a weird place. I'm so pressured to be knowledgeable in all situations. It's really no big deal; I like being pressured into being smart. I ain't got no problem. But I've chosen a unique demographic for company. Again, in English: I got kinda weird friends. Most of them are absorbed in music, and the sort of music they listen to is powerful. It can sway your mood. So, take an introverted intellectual (like myself) who is pressed to think deeply about every situation, and pair him with music that can press Pee-Wee Herman to suicide. The result: yours truly. When you've got this cake batter of my life all stirred up, then you add some extra toppings in, like bullies, fake friends, a household pressing you to be a genius, a mother who wants you to have a 4.0 every term, and a severely broken heart, and you're all set to bake (figuratively, of course. I'm not on drugs, no matter what my art portrays)! So, that (mostly the last ingredient. Like a lot. A LOT, GUYS.), among some other pettier things I've already discussed, is why I'm always sad.

So, I'm making a decision.

From now on, I'm gonna try. I'm gonna be the cool, under-the-water (is that a thing?...I assume it means cool, if it is...), nonchalant yet caring, sweet and sensitive dude that everyone loves. Yeah, that's a freakin' tall order, you say. And you may say further, "How're you gonna fill this tall order, James? I mean, you're great and lanky and I wanna marry you (Mary) and all, but how on Earth will you become Ryan Gosling overnight?" Well, dear readers, both of you, I'm not. It'll take a while. Gimme a chance, but even more, gimme some time. I'll be better. You'll like me. I'll like you. So, world, Mumsy, Papa, Eva, Mary, Finn, Tyler, Nayma, Gabrielle and Camille, and whoever else cares...


HERE GOES NOTHING.
Hope you enjoy the cake.