1998.

I never feel interesting enough to make my life public. This just felt like the thing to do. I'm the bandwagon type, obviously.

I have 4 months left of college, let's do some documentin'!

I shared some stories and a few of my 12-year-old self's journal entries with a best friend the other night. I immediately began feeling so bad for that poor girl. I would write poems about marrying aliens and how much I thought my father was disappointed in me. When I say I was "feeling bad" for myself at the age of 12, I really mean I was laughing my ass of at how lonely, weird, slightly eclectic and different I really was. I'm not sure where I'm going with this but I am going to find that alien poem & post it here the second I get a chance. It may be the best piece of work I (or anyone else, for that fact) have ever done.

I'm gonna stop. I just don't like empty spaces.