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I’m trying, desperately actually, to figure it all out. Everything that has happened is coming to a catastrophic end. But I’ve learned something. I’ve learned that my favorite words in the whole English language are when said genuinely with vulnerability, “I’m struggling.” Everything that I’ve seen in my short 19 years has made me into something so far from what I was originally intended for. And now in this moment I can appreciate the bravery in others  that I never had.

I always played the right part. I had it all under control, or so it seemed. I thought that time was on my side that I would have enough of it to get myself together. I was wrong. Now I am out of time. There are no more chances to get it together.

Why I Deleted the Excerpt from the Novel

So I posted an excerpt of something about a week ago. As you have noticed it's been deleted. Well part of the reason I deleted it was the fact that I posted in haste. I wrote that when I was fifteen. I guess that has something to do with it as well. I thought, "Hey I was fifteen, that's pretty good for a fifteen year old." But as I was reading it again I noticed things in it that I would never do now. The dialog was cheesy, the exposition was forced, and it just wasn't me. I mean it was me, obviously, I wrote it, but it was fifteen year old me. Nineteen year old me isn't exactly fond of fifteen year old me. Anyway, just kind of an explanation. Bye.