Forty Four

Before I go back to school,

I am going to enjoy the last moments of my freedom on the internet, because there is literally nowhere else I can go and not feel sad about leaving Orange County. I’ve spent the past few days exploring Los Angeles and a local mall with my younger sister, looking for her tomboy/men’s style clothes. In addition to a whole new wardrobe and a Shinola watch for me, we’ve got two bags of clothing for her, and by some miracle, I’ve managed to convince her to buy Victoria’s Secret bra during Winter Break. I. am. Awesome.

Also, I realized that another reason I’ve been posting less recently is that I’m going back to handwriting my journal entries. I keep this gold cover journal that I bought for six bucks at a local bookstore (the most expensive diary that I’ve written in ever), and especially after dating, I’ve found more solace in writing in a private book instead of posting online. This is probably because I’m less inclined to share it if my thoughts are in messy scribbles that I will never look at again, and there’s a nice feeling of privacy in writing on paper.

I literally write about anything. I write about people I hate, people I appreciate, and why I’m currently mad at him. I also scribble and repeat myself a lot in a diary, because I don’t move on from things easily. Many of these things are unpopular opinions, or they make me a very unlikable person. In other words, even though I’m a self-proclaimed liberal and a lover of democracy and kindness and whatever, writing on paper has allowed me to vomit all my feelings of hate, prejudice, and judgmental-ness onto something that no one will look at until I die. It’s a sort of purging of the bad spirits in me when my thoughts get dark about myself or other people.

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