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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 and 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. . .