sometimes i wonder why i write about such serious things on here. there are only two people in the world that know about this blog but only one really looks at it. the other will never read these words so i am going to say whatever i want about that subject. plain and simple: he doesn't care. i'm not saying it's a big deal, he has a life and he's fallen in love for the first time recently, why would he decide to put aside some time to read about my most intimate thoughts? i'm not bitter or butt-hurt about it because although he is one of my only friends (i say this because real friends are best friends and i don't have a lot of best friends), we have grown apart over the years. most of that is my fault.

i have showed one or two posts to my family because they are about them, but i will never give them the chance to memorize the url. this is the place i can write whatever i want without the fear of being judged or questioned, i know lindsay will never judge me. even if i one day posted up pictures of my armpit hair growth over the series of a few months. even if i'm gnarly and gross or one day write about every single detailed flaw about myself, he will never judge me.

sometimes i wonder if there's a part of my brain that is sensitive only to serious and painful things, as those things are what i remember easily. the memories bleed into each other and end up a big, dark splotch and i labelled this splotch as 'things i wish i could forget' and 'things that have made me stronger' and 'fuck it all.' i know forgetting what i've experienced will make me a different person and i would not have my life any other way. i am blessed and i am cursed, but it's the kind of curse i am thankful for.
happy thoughts do run through my mind a lot and sometimes i encounter thoughts that make me laugh like a tool on transit, but i never remember them. i often wonder why i decide to write about the things that hurt me the most and post them, to be forever remembered?

one theory i have about myself is that i want to look back on these words years later and think: "i survived it all and i am happy now, look at me!" i look at sublime, unrelenting happiness as something to be achieved in the future but there are days where i wonder. to think that growing up and instantly becoming happy every day of the year (or most of them) is a very unrealistic mindset that will probably crash and burn if i am convincing myself it will happen. life is hardly something to look at through rose-colored glasses, especially once i am out there without the familiar safety net my mother provides. if i think that life is difficult for me right now, i am going to slap myself silly once i am out there in the real world.

so, i'm going to make it a point to write about every single thought. happy or sad. funny or boring. i don't want to look back on this blog and think WHAT THE HELL? WHAT KIND OF TEENAGER WAS I? i want to remember myself as a person that isn't always sad, especially not anymore. i may have out-of-whack hormones right now because the pill does that, but knowing my recent, out of the blue sadness is artificial is a great comfort. i feel better already knowing that it is truly not me, not anymore.

WOO.