The first day of many if i dont get bored before then

I am trying to write a ode. i have never tried to write an ode until now. turns out its alot harder than keats makes it appear. i dont think i like capitals so im not going to use any. why is the sensation of a breeze so satisfying? i want to paint the view from my window right now, matching the purity of the blue sky and the eternal darkness of the sillouette of the trees blowing gently in the forgiving breeze. laura marling always makes me feel like i need to express things i didnt even know i felt before the song begun. cripes its summer already. were did the last year of my life go? what have i accomplished? this past year i read kathy griffin official bookclub selection, i played the part of a homeless unfit person on the steps of leeds town hall on a chilly but splendid october evening. i became a guide guider. i gave up facebook games because they are scarily addictive and a waste of ones life. i started a blog. is it egotistical to write a blog? do i believe my own thoughts worthy of others minds? if i felt no would that mean i had low selfesteem? it must be a yes as im writing it so does that mean i have high self esteem? or am i simply filling my evening making self involved ramblings? i have itchy legs. they have been itchy on and off for about 6 months maybe longer. that is all for now.