My birthday is on Wednesday. People keep asking me what I want but I have no fucking idea. My mom tried to get me a guitar which is total fucking bullshit considering that I have no talent or motivation to learn. You know what I want for my birthday? Weed. That’s what I want. I have some right above me in my loft. But thanks to Daniel I can’t. Not that I mind too much, because he is amazing, but I wanna get high!
In just six months I went from
Christian, virgin (never messed around), never done drugs, never drank, nice girl
To
Basically atheist, drug using, self-mutilating slut.
Born in 1996
Over the coming months, I'll be publishing several journal entries a day in chronological order. I began journaling in 2007, when I was eleven years old. Even then I wrote as though I were archiving my life, collecting details about my world. As I grew older, journaling became more of a description of my emotional world.
I am an aspiring creative nonfiction writer who is producing very little since graduating college this Spring. But with this unusually thorough account of my entire adolescence, I feel as though I have been given a gift that has been under my nose this whole time.
This is a practice in forgiveness and vulnerability. It is also a way to laugh at myself.
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Girltown 