A Dragon Meanders

So--I've heard about blogging, blogs, whatever. Who hasn't? But, all things considered, it's more easily said than done. Infinitely so.

I mean, what does one even blog about, if you aren't educating someone, or else selling something?

Oh, just write down your thoughts. Talk about everyday things. Like a journal!

Well, perhaps, but it takes quite a bit of talent to be able to ramble about the standard person's average day--and make it interesting. (In other news, I just realized that ctr+i works for italics, here. Prepare for the deluge.)

I'm not claiming to have this kind of talent. On the other hand, I do have the sort of life that, relatively frequently, makes for good storytelling. Or at least some pitying looks or a chuckle or two. Same difference, right?

But hey, when you have a lot of little knowledge, you can talk about those things. Like me! I wouldn't really say I'm an expert in anything, but I'm pretty knowledgeable about mental health. And martial arts and weaponry. And some anime. And writing. Psychopathy. PTSD. (Can you tell I'm a shrink-in-training, yet?) LGBTQA+. Abuse. Linguistics. Swimming. Bowling. Running. Even English grammar, although if you guys start asking to hear about that we're going to be deeply confused.

Right. Journal entry.

Dear diary, today sensei kicked my ass and laughed at all of us. Sadist. I woke up early from an awful-ass nightmare and took a bath, after which I managed about another hour's worth of sleep before I had to take sibling to school. I debated going by and making sure all the police officers in our district were ok after the shootout yesterday (I know no one was injured, but still). I decided against it, being a bit terrified of policemen even knowing that most of them are perfectly friendly and not in fact about to try to abuse their authority. I applied for a few more jobs on Indeed (the options out here are fucking terrible). I picked up my sister from where I'd dropped her off that morning. I stopped by my grandparents' house (they're all fine, still, thank god, even if they're getting pretty up there). I spent the rest of the evening dodging attempts to talk to me by my mother and puttering around on minds and discord.

Juicy, I know. But even those plotting world domination or preparing for the zombie apocalypse (@wraithreaper22 swears that if it's not here by the time he's thirty, he's starting it himself) can't do so all the time. The concept of real people having lives as well as running around on the internet is kind of terrifying, since all of us netizens are basically a different species altogether, but hey, it happens, right? 

Right?

If this were a Hallmark blog post, I would no doubt be saying something cheesy and sentimental about how we're all humans and have more in common with each other than we think, if only we'd bother to look. Luckily for everyone, I'm not that type of dickwad. 

So I guess I'll close this first post out with a question, instead. 

What's your normal?