The Anonymous Writer

The Journal With No Name
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2012-12-25 01:26:31 (UTC)


I am a 13-years-old girl writing about her life.

I made you want to stop reading this, huh? Well, then go click away from my journal! I don't care about you then. You are only a reader to me. I need this journal to only express my feelings. Nobody else actually cares with what I'm dealing with. It's a lesson I've learned, that everybody's actions are for their benefit and that everybody is completely selfish in different ways. Anyway besides the point about everybody else, I want to talk about me! (Ok, I didn't even try to make myself sound that selfish to prove my point. Would that be considered punny?)

Anyways! This is an introduction about me. Yup. Isn't this awesome? I get to talk all about myself. Ok, well... I'm a girl. 13-years-old. And you already know that about me. Ok.. hmmm well.... I did move on August 26, 2011 from a suburbia in Pittsburgh that I grew up in since birth. I really miss that place, especially my 2 best friends. I still talk to them. Is that interesting? Maybe it'd be more interesting if I talked about how I was peer pressured into alcohol. Does that perk your ears up? No? What about if I told you I had sex? Are you now interested? Are you thinking, "Oh, what a slut! Only 13 years of age? Damn." Well the jokes on you! That last statement is COMPLETELY false. Not to say I'm proud of the second one either. I don't go drinking all of the time. It was only that one occasion really. I was just trying to impress a boy. Imagine that, as being a 13-year-old girl? Never would have expected that? Well how about this as a twist of events...this boy is currently 16-years old and we had a thing.

When I say a thing, I guess I mean I had a summer fling. I loved him and he loved me. He was my first kiss and showed me what those movies that talked about love really felt like. Isn't that great? That a boy can whisk you off of your feet and show you to finally live life a little more recklessly? Bonus points when he's a bad boy like this boy. He has a continuous streak of pissing off the high school and even a few students at the school. But enough of him for at least right now. Aww.. sad we have to finish about him, right? Ha.. if you only knew. If you only knew what he had done to make everything end. And no don't start thinking that I got upset because he cheated on me. And especially do NOT think he was the one to end things, in case you didn't get the subtle hint I left you. (And for the ones who didn't notice my subtle clue... rereading all of what I wrote, aren't yah? Cute.)

Now don't start judging me for all of my wrong doings. I know they are wrong and I shouldn't be doing or have done some things. This is life. We choose to life our life the way we want to live it, and we choose to learn what we want to learn. Ever since my fling with that boy (whoops, brought him up again) I have changed. I've matured in a way where I know that his path of partying and not studying has a destination unworthy of my potential. You see, I aspire to be in path (Pathologist for all of you bimbos unaware of the abbreviated word.) I want to be a doctor where I can see the human body. I want to actually be able to see, really see, what's inside of each and every one of us. I want to see our organs, our blood, and bones. I want to work on people with stories of how they died. I want to learn from them their mistakes they have made, so I don't make the same mistakes. Kind of like the quote I've heard around the web: "A wise man learns from his own mistakes. A wiser man learns the mistakes from another man." Something like that at least. I know my dad has also mentioned that same quote once.

He's always trying to fill me in on his wisdom that his dad told him. Even if that wisdom lasts for hours. He means well. It's just... he can talk more than a sports commenter talking about the olympics all day. No exaggeration. In fact you learn to eventually doze off into your own world after he's made his point 20 minutes in. Sometimes I feel bad for not paying complete attention to him. Especially recently when things have been getting bad for him. Imagine being married to somebody who is constantly at work and when they come back home they're constantly raging about everything and nothing. You can't divorce your partner (my dad has a wife, but let's just keep this generalized) because you know you need money for the children to stay in college (aka my 2 sisters) and for the youngest to be fully supported with her life until she's in path. (aka you-know-who!) You also can't think of actually divorcing your partner, despite them making you miserable for so long you can't even remember why you married them in the first place, because you still think you can rekindle the flame. You bring Starbucks to them at work and get told off by your partner that you just made everything worse. You work on the house day-by-day to make it look a little bit better for approval to only be bashed on doing a poor job. Poor Dad, huh? He hasn't felt relieved in years. I'm even beginning to think, along with the rest of my sisters, that he's waiting for me to graduate from college/medical school to divorce my mom. I actually don't care if my parents get a divorce. But let's not talk about this. It's really a point in my life that hasn't happened so there's no need to plan on what I feel about it. Even if you are a journal where I'm supposed to express these feelings of mine.

Wanna know a secret? I, too, have not feel relieved in years. For a different cause though. You see at last I finally was getting truly along with my bestest friend of all in Pittsburgh, to be forced to move for my mom's work. The first year in North Carolina wasn't so bad for me since I can adapt to drastic things easily. I made a group of new friends. I am even considered as one of the most popular girls in the school. These social successes doesn't mean I like my friends though. Each and every one of them have traits that make me want to be their friends, yes. Only now I can't help but overlook their good traits to see them for who they really are. And that pains me to judge people like that. I hate to judge people. It limits me. I can't quite explain why it limits me.

I can only say that I understand people. It's a gift I've always had. I can read people as if I'm in their shoes. It's so weird to be so sympathetic with people of all ages, races, and backgrounds. Somehow it's like I'm binded with every person I meet. It can be an annoyance at times, like not being able to really be enthusiastic with just anybody. Also I'm annoyed with the fact that I can't trust people, even my dad. They always, ALWAYS end up telling somebody. But then again there are the good things that come with this "gift". I can help people. I've helped plenty of people who were in tears or in desperate need of help. I always can fix another person's problem. It literally isn't hard for me at all. I can fix my one problems in a snap of a finger as well. This thing I have has helped me be well-liked. And I guess that's all I can really ask for. Somehow though there always has got to be drama... and this is where my journal unfolds...

So go ahead and take your time before you read the next X many entries. Grab some popcorn, make a sandwich, pour yourself a drink, sit by and relax, but most of all take your time in reading what I have to tell you. I don't always make much sense to people. My wording can be very complex.


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