Wanting so badly to be a writer, like needing it in my bones, but not being able to write because I want to be a writer is my biggest downfall. I don’t know if that makes sense but I just have this fear that everything I write is shit (which it unfortunately is) and therefore I won’t be a writer is what prevents me from even touching paper. Okay so simply I am just so scared of failure. I am the biggest fail son. Like even Roman Roy would not know what to do with me.
So I am going to star forcing myself to write with no editing, not even looking back at the sentence I just wrote.
I am turning 18 in a couple months. So I guess I won’t be a teenage girl anymore. I wish I could say that I have lived my life to the max and have learned so much.
I haven’t learned shit, and I haven’t done shit.
My biggest most fundamental years were spent rotting and thinking and wanting to write but never writing.
It’s not like tragic thing’s haven’t happen to me but I just haven’t lived those teenage years you see in books and movies.
I have never fallen in love, I don’t even know if I’ve ever truly romantically liked someone, and I just feel like the hole in my gets bigger and bigger everyday. The black hole, the emptiness, the pain, the fucking anal hole, all of that.
I have spent my teenage years obsessively treasuring my friendships (to the point of suffocating those I love), and having this eternal limerence for an unknown ghost of a person.
More than anything I think I am just lonely and scared of it. I cling to people holding them deep in my blood and looking for protection.
Maybe it’s because of my illness, that I am constantly looking for someone to take care of me. Sometimes I think I think I am this terribly fragile glass of a person and that any minute they are going to crack what is left of me and forget me. Maybe that’s my real illness not CF, my eternal Achilles heel is that I am lonely and scared of it.
What’s funny to me is that I have always wished for love, romantic love specifically, every 11:11, every eyelash, every wish upon a shooting star. And I am perpetually uninteresting and uninterested.
(intermission : I, because I grew up as the fucking nerd loser ugly girl, need to validate myself by saying guys have been interested, but in making out, but like there is no genuine connection, and if they do wanna know me more they are those who want a girlfriends immediately no thoughts. But also it is true that I am not really looking just talking. Or more than anything just thinking)
I feel so self-absorbed talking about myself so much.
Maybe that’s the end of today. I’ll write more tomorrow.