A Memorial for My Mind.

To anyone, and mostly to myself,

This is my second post of the night, and most likely my last. I just wanted to let myself know, and whoever is reading, a little about what went on today, in my life.

I guess sleeping in was what I do best, the morning never excited me, and today nothing really changed. I woke up at 12:00, noon, somewhere around then. I guess if I am a couple minutes off it wouldn't matter too much. I woke up thinking about crap, usually always do, even though I live in my dreams, and my dreams are usually made up of what I want but can't have, I never wake up happy. When I do, I usually get up and check my phone, or am woken up by three loud beeps. The text usually says something like, "Morninnnng," or "Wake up dragon breath!" This makes me smile, but I haven't really smiled in over a half a year.

Bowl of cereal, and this is how my breakfast at home usually is. One bowl of cereal, nothing really more, even if I am hungry when I get done I try to hold back the temptation to eat so I can maintain some sort of figure I go to the gym everyday to acquire.

I usually start off my day by writing, if writing comes easy, and usually it has been, my mind has been clear, and my days have been great! I am receiving great grades in school and just recently received an "A" on my creative writing: fiction project. Which really excited me, it was a great accomplishment for me because it is an example of trying my hardest. Just the fact that getting an "A" on my own writing makes me feel amazing. Today I wrote, not much, at all, but I did write. I write slow, not usually, but this novel I am trying to take my time on. I am trying to create something greater than my first novel, which I need to edit and send out to publishers before I die.

My first novel is called Memorial.

The day was just filled with skateboarding, something to get out and have fun, and really nothing in my honest opinion is more fun than skateboarding. I am not too bad at skateboarding, no where near professional, or even amateur status, but I love doing it. It takes my mind off of everything and for the day I can just have a great time with my friends.

The thing that have been on my mind shouldn't and I feel like a fucking retard thinking about the things I have been thinking about. Even though my relationship with Anna Mclean has been over for almost 7 months, my mind still wanders back to her, and I couldn't tell anyone why. I spent the last 2 years with Anna, and she was important to me, what she did to me was horrible but when it was good, it was great. For the two years that I was with her she was the most important thing in my entire life.

I feel ashamed 7 months down the road thinking about her, and she would probably agree with me that I am pathetic. She is far away from here, and is enjoying her life, and I am still here thinking about her. (occasionally) I have to add that because she is never usually on my mind, there are other things I think about, but she is one of them. I don't care if she thinks about me, which she probably doesn't.

There is more to come, tomorrow. Right now I am tired, and need some sort of sleep.

Introducing

Hello everyone (or whoever is reading),

I don't really know what I am doing here. I guess I am writing to keep consistency in my life, to keep my memories sorted out, and hopefully I can do that, and hopefully this will help. I will try to use good grammar, and if I don't I am sorry.

My name is Casey Walts, just like what it says on the sidebar, and I am an aspiring writer. I was born in New Hampshire, and even though I did not stay long in the state of my birth somehow I would like to go visit someday. I have been there before, once with my father, but I was too young to really embrace anything. I guess it was because I was some what immature, and only wanted to do things I was really interested in, and now I am interested in my birth place. I was born Feb. 7th 1989, in Dartmouth, New Hampshire. I actually lived in Windsor, Vermont, even though I don't remember jack shit about Vermont, I could tell you that it was a beautiful place from what I do remember.

I started writing when I was younger, nothing really special, a lot of misspelled words. While I started writing, I started drawing. I never really liked drawing, even though it was a past time of mine, I guess I only did it hoping to be as great as my father was, hoping to get some sort of compliment from my father, even though my father was never one to give compliments. Writing was always so much easier for me to do. To tell stories that no one has ever thought of, trapped somewhere in my head, twisted around by my feelings and emotions. These stories are crafted by me, hoping that it will capture someone, and people will love reading it just as much as I love writing it. As F. Scott Fitzgerald has said:

"I don't write because I want to say something. I write because I have something to say."

This is me.
I have become something that i am proud of, and I will never change that for anyone. So read my blogs, this is just the first of many.
Thank you.