still under construction. . . me, not the journal.
there sits a quiet girl, with the loudest mouth. the girl who always makes you laugh, but is dying inside. hiding her feelings while they overflow in her mind & soul. sometimes she can't contain herself, so she explodes in person, on paper, via text , in tears, but hey, thus is life. is she broken without recourse or is this how everyone feels and she is the the only one brave & scared enough to show it? She was told that misery has enough company and she should dare to be happy, but where to start? When your life is a daily shyt show with the highest highs and depressing lows, where to start? Maybe it is here. . .