Something Really Is Wrong With Me. And

I Would Give Someone A Record So They Could Love The Record, Not So They Would Always Know That I Gave It To Them.

I Have Decided That Maybe I Want To Write When I Grow Up. I Just Don't Know What I Would Write.

Except That My Father Got A Raise, And My Mother Didn't Because She Doesn't Get Paid For Housework, And My Sister Stopped Reading Those Self-esteem Books Because She Met A New Boy

Maybe He Didn’t Really Encourage Me To Do Things, But He Didn’t Prevent Me From Doing Them Either. But After A While, I Didn’t Do Things Because I Didn’t Want Him To Think Different About Me. But The Thing Is, I Wasn’t Being Honest. So, Why Would I Care Whether Or Not He Loved Me When He Didn’t Really Even Know Me?

I Want To Be An Author/director And I'm Writing My Second Book Now And I Want To Make A Movie Of It, And I Hope I Get To Do This For The Rest Of My Life.