i’ve come to the conclusion that I want to explore, reiterate, laugh, observe, feel some old diary entries. ive been keeping a diary x writing since I was in the 4th grade. I still have almost all (w/ the exception of maybe 2-3) of my diaries from over the years. I keep them in safe places like my grandma’s house, storage, in drawers x old backpacks. locked up. and every once in a while I come across one and laugh or get sad over what I jotted down in a single moment.
They are raw feelings or sad feelings or ridiculous or silly feelings but they are mine. all mine. they are me. at 14 crushing on some boy. at 15 feeling very isolated from the world, all teenage-y x hormonal x not knowing whats going on with me. at 17 when I got blamed for someone else’s actions, etc.
So ive decided that I will slowly, but surely release some of my original work. in its original format — bad punctuation, no commas, fast-paced,happy, hate filled, some rage form. ill type it out because some of the handwriting is cray. (yeah, i still say ‘cray’ like its circa 2012).
its whatever. what do I have to lose? except finally telling my mom how I skipped school that one time with all my senior friends x had a pool party at my house. oops. cat out of the bag. i aint sorry mom, but i love you. it was lit. i was cool. i rebelled. 26 x grown now. thug life.