Inconsequentials and Trivialities

I’ve noticed that I don’t write much except to complain. That can’t be fun reading for you, but I’m guessing that it’s sort of therapeutic for me. When things are going well, I want to be fully engaged the good times. But when something annoys me, I want to vent about it. Having no actual people who care to hear me rant about stuff, I channel that into writing. Even if I had friends that were willing to listen to me, I am reluctant to subject them to my tirades. I wish I had better friends, the sort that MADE me understand that I could spout off about stuff.

I’m doing something wrong.