I’ve been running away from who I am since I discovered who that was. I didn’t like an inch of the skin on my bones, didn’t respect a single thought that I produced. For so long, I faked a confidence so well-crafted, I started to believe in it too. But now, I have real confidence. I smile when I look in mirrors, and I don’t … Continue reading writer of love, all kinds.
Much like I did in my sophomore year of high school, I am back to spreading myself thin. Continue reading little bang for a lot of bucks
I have been called a bitch on multiple occasions, for a multitude of reasons. It’s mostly by men, aggressively. And it’s occasionally by women, affectionately. And they’re almost always right. I was raised by a pair of smart assholes, who were raised by more pairs of smart assholes, and so on and so forth. Assholery is an inherited artform from a lineage much longer than … Continue reading she barks, she bites
I found out about my loss of human status on a place where I post pictures of myself in cute dresses and pretty sunsets.
So instead of feeling like the world is spinning, I feel more like my place in it is permanent and still. Not as the living, breathing lifeform that I was five seconds ago.
But as a stone-still statue that they’ve tapped their gavels like wands to turn me into. Continue reading from the diary of an object
Sometimes, it takes everything in me to write here. To make my words seen on a website and not a private document, where there’s no pressure, no people. Just me and my words in my own little tide pool of self-depreciation and egotistical boosts. Sometimes, it takes nothing in me to write here. Because putting something on here either feels like a shout into the … Continue reading the demise of a teenage girl