Bare bones and other clichés

I haven't written on here in about a year.. and there's this ache down deep in my bones. an ache I can't seem to shake no matter how much I throw myself into other things. I haven't written in months unless it was for school, my guitars have collected a thick layer of dust, and my circle of friends seems to be shirking along with my patience for others my age. Now i'm sitting here looking down at my bony fingers typing with a rush of something that resembles passion. Even if it's only fleeting. I keep clawing at the idea that maybe I was meant for something. to share the words floating aimlessly around in my head with someone who can relate, recognize my pain. The same desperate feeling that tends to leave the oh-so familiar ache in my bones. Look at me rambling like an idiot. I'm not sure these words will make sense to anyone. They barley make sense to me, I like to write like I think. Short spasms of ideas and word vomit that never seems to end or truly grasp at how I feel. Maybe I'll write here when I have something more important to say, or maybe when I have nothing and just want to torment the internet with keeping hold of an insignificant blurb of words from a sixteen year old girl. What a tragedy. Anyways, the best and only real advice I can offer you is to never stop writing. or drawing. or playing your instruments that you were never really good at in the first place.. just don't give up on them. Cause once you do, it'll be too late to go back. Now that gnawing feeling has gone away and I no longer feel the need to violently rip the skin from my bones to expose the swirl of emotions that rattle me to the point where sleep seems aimless. Rant over, and I apologies for the emotional rollercoaster i've subjected you to.