It has been about a year since I first started this blog. It was meant to contain my commitment and my reviews, my hope and my writing, a very wonderful version of my reading life and, frankly, it has been designed as a way to escaped my loneliness at the times. God dammit, loneliness. Looking back on those first posts, I am somewhere between snorting, daying of laughter and crying wkth nostalgia. Because, humanity, as cliche as I sound, I have changed so much it is both astonishing and cruel.
I have also noticed that I cannot live without writing. I am fragmented, with no idea of my genuine identity ( if that is a real thing, not an urban myth ) and I need to scribble and scribble.
I also take photos now, with my smartphone, whenever I leave the house. Celebratory picture of sunflowers, three weeks in a row.
I still feel lonely sometimes, you see, but I am fighting it. Not loneliness per se, but the feelings that used to come with it. I am still scared of scaring people away, of being to expansive, too big too loud too messy, of bothering them to death. But I am learning.
And I am going to scribble my knowledge around here. Again.
With sunflowers, your dearest 16 year old writer,
P.S. in need of a chatartic experience, I cut my hair. More like chopped it off. I am adjusting with that, too.