Things get better;
I love being able to find things that cheer me up when life’s bringing me down. Hanging out with kimberly & the neighborhood kids helps because they’re so carefree, and they persuade me to be so also. I love talking about random things and making silly faces. I love kicking jacks as the rain slowly comes down, and laughing my ass off when friends comes on television. I try not to...
And this is how it begins and ends, every…single…time…
And there are all these questions in my head;
Like why am I so ugly? How could he care so little about me? Why am I always the one left out? Why do I try so hard when I never get noticed anyway? What do I have to do to make someone love me? Why does life with him feel like a beautiful nightmare? Is it possible to be this awkward? Will I ever be happy?
Am I the only kid my age that remembers 9/11...
I may have only been 6 years old on that day, but never had I been shielded from the events of the day. My mom frantically picked me up from school, and on the car ride home she didn’t say a thing. I get home, and my mom is on the phone, freaking out. I found out later that my dad was supposed to have gone to the Pentagon that day, and she had no idea where he was. I stared at the TV, not...
This will be me on the first day of school...
I am disgustingly thin;
You don’t meet many girls who want to gain weight, but I do. I am 85 pounds, mainly because of genetics, but also because I have lost my appetite recently. I feel perfectly fine, but I am starting to, for the first time in my life, become self-concious of my figure. People tell me to stop complaining, they would kill to have my body. Honestly though, I want curves. I want to look more...