Why did I do it?

Coming home from school today, all I could think about was how I needed to beef up my research portion of my paper I am currently writing.

This will be so much fun.

Books and articles are all ready to go, I just need to apply them to the paper. Easy right? Not if you consider yourself flighty and unfocused... Sometimes I wonder how I manage in this college-leveled writing course. It was recommended to be taken as a senior, but of course, when something like that is thrown at me, I'm going to want to take it to prove them I can be better than that.

Challenge accepted.
Completion of challenge is only 19 days away, I have a 92% in the class, and many of the seniors in the class have slacked majorly. Being the only junior in there, I began the semester feeling as if I were inferior to everyone else. I knew from the beginning that I would be one of few juniors taking the class, and the odds were I was going to be the only one in there. But I guess it was only on the back burner.
Something tells me that I did not take the class for the challenge, though. I knew I was completely capable of passing with flying colors (not to be arrogant). I chose a class that I would not have any friends in, and delaying another class most people usually take as juniors, World Literature.
Was there more of a pull to writing than reading? I know the Literature class has a lot of writing to it too. Then again, I always thought I didn't like writing. I always thought I liked reading.

I'm just confusing myself. But why did I do it?

There are a lot of things I did I can ask that question to.

Why did I take German?
Why did I audition for the talent show?
...........Why was I accepted over the other six that were not?
Why did I find an interest in guitar?
Why did I get another Winnie the Pooh?
Why did I start leading church choir practices?
Why didn't I join the school choir?
Why did I start volunteering at the hospital?

I honestly have no answers to these questions, and yet, they seem to be the simplest questions to answer.

Well anyway,
I chopped up some whole chicken today. Huge white cutting board, and a giant butcher's knife. I wonder what that looks like to other people... probably a little scary, maybe a little intimidating... I can get quite crazy while I butcher.

Dang it. Started out way too serious. Now I'm completely lost as where to go from here, but I don't want to keep it as it is...

Oh I know.

My guitar, his name's Larry, a gift from a friend. I only know a few basic chords (I have been WAAAAY too lazy about teaching myself new stuff... I haven't even attempted bar chords and it's been... 2 years).
I guess I really just wanted to talk about my imaginary friend (yeah, I know I'm 17, why do I still have an imaginary friend? I don't know myself. He's just there.). His name's Jeffy, I guess I named him after an elementary school buddy. Jeffy likes to take on different characters, mainly of guys I already know and have encountered. He scares me sometimes, my imagination can be quite vivid and he seems so real.
No one ever believes me. I feel like a child because he's still around. I feel happy when he's by my side. I have a small reason to smile.

Lightbulb.

"I feel happy when he's by my side. I have a small reason to smile."
I obviously have an inner want/need (not sure which one it is) that Jeffy fulfills. I just learned something about myself, and it kind of saddens me.
For one, I start far too many of my sentences with "I".
Secondly, I'm depending on others, even if they're imaginary (my goodness, that makes me sound crazy) for my happiness.

This stuff is like therapy.

Jeffy's really close to me though, I wouldn't want to get rid of him. Sadly, I don't have many close friends.  They're there for awhile, but they always go back to their other friends. Moments of my life, like now, I don't seem to talk to anyone. No one's around anymore. I'm pretty lonely.

I feel so pathetic.

Goodnight.

Trời đã xế chiều. Giêsu ơi, con nhờ tay Mẹ Maria, mà dâng lên Chúa. Dâng chút lời cám ơn, dâng chót cả sác hồn, các việc con làm, các lời con xin, cùng với mọi khó nguy con chịu phép một ngày qua. Cùng với bóng chiêu ta, Giêsu Maria. Con hòa ca, dâng về nơi bao la. Chúa ban phép lành, một đêm ngủ an bình, hồn trong, xác tươi xinh.

(The day has ended. Oh Jesus, by the hands of Mother Mary, I raise up. Raise thanks, raise my whole soul and being, all of my works, all of my wishes, along with all my hardships from this day passed, Along with my darkness. Jesus, Mary. I sing, raise up to the heavens. May God bless me with a peaceful night's sleep, a  pure soul, and a fresh body.)