A few secrets...

- I wish I was thinner. (Doesn't everyone?)

- I am afraid of needles.

-For almost the same reason, I am also afraid of tampons, but girls have to make sacrifices or die.

- There is a girl in the back of my head who is a confident bitch. There is another girl who is sweet and shy. Usually, they just mix wrong and I become shy and bitchy.

-I believe in magic.

-I hate telephones and hairdryers.

-I cry a lot. I am a very emotional person. Yet, since I've got some strange psychological mind problem, in my head crying = weak so I never let anyone see me cry. Everything makes me cry. Frustration, despair, hopelessness, jealousy, everything.

- I'm actually extremely lazy and I have to work really hard to get myself motivated.

- I want to rebuild myself. I'm kind of tired of myself. I'm revamping my life slowly, starting with my room and my wardrobe. Yeah, um, I'll let you know how this goes.

- I might like a guy who might know my name. If by a bizarre stroke of luck he does, he probably can't connect it to my face. But I might not like him. I'll let you know that too...

- I wish I was a good artist. But I can't draw to save my life, I can't sculpt or paint, I'm not very creative, I can't write and I'm not good at poetry, I'm not very good at sewing or mending, I'm not great at composing and I'm not outstanding at music...

- I think my life is boring. If my life happened to become a book, I wouldn't read it. I wouldn't even read the back cover. I'd stick it back on the dusty shelf in the very back where it belongs.

- All in all, I'm a boring, painfully normal person, and somehow this bothers me. The problem is, I think I'd probably have a coronary or a vasospasm if my life was actually interesting.

- Basically to sum up this whole thing, I'm going through mid-life crisis as a teenager. As in, who am I, what is my purpose, why am I so insignificant, etc. I give people advice for this kind of thing all the time. Hakuna matata, that's what I pretty much tell them. Sooooo... Whenever I start freaking out and practically hyperventilating (okay not really but still) I just have to sit myself down and give myself a pep talk. This is probably looks insane to anyone who stops and watches me for long enough. I mean, I don't think I look too insane, because I don't look like I'm talking to anyone else, or myself.... maybe? Anyway. I just have to ask myself, "are you afraid of this? are you afraid of that? are you going to remember tomorrow? are you going to remember when you're fifty? are you going to die? what's the worst? what's the best? then what are you afraid of?" And then I'll get all pumped and be like, "that's right, I'm not afraid of anything!" (*lielielielieliecoughcough... what?) and get going with a spring in my step. That spring usually rusts by the end of the hour.

But yea. Nothing is working and now I'm just rambling, and now you get to see the insane side of me.

I'm sorry. I'll shut up. It's hard to take my secrets seriously now, I bet. Ah well.