If you still follow me, if you're aware of the existence of this blog or if you just happen to see this post, I really just want you to know a little bit about me.
I'm a girl, almost 18. I used this blog to express the things I wish I could have said, the things I wish I could have felt. After I stopped posting, I created another blog where I only posted positive things, things to encourage myself to do something, to be happy.
If you want to know the truth, I actually was for a little while. That bit of happiness felt like it could make uo for all the bad stuff inside my mind. I was enjoying myself, I felt alive for the first time in who knows how long. Who keeps track of time anyway?
Well, September 2012 I decided I wanted to go on an exchange program to a foreign country, my parents said yes immediately, they wanted me to do something aside from reading and sleeping all day.
So, fast foward September 2013, I'm on a plane omw to Italy, A host family was waiting for me, we live in Rome. Do you know how many people would like to be able to go on exchange, and aside from all that being so ''lucky'' to be placed in freaking Rome? I know, I know.
But you know what? I'm sad. But not just sad, no. It's like a desperate kind of sadness that won't go away, no matter how many walks I take, no matter how many sunsets I see, no matter how many cups of tea I drink, no matter how much I write, no matter how much I snort, swallow, smoke or drink; no matter how much I read. Because at some point I'll have to stop doing what I was doing and at some point, I'm going to be alone with myself, just me, me, terrific me.
It's a weird kind of feeling, ya know. Just like when it's dark at night and you don't know what might happen or what you might see. That's how I feel when I'm alone with myself, and I'm feeling really lonely lately.
I've become an expert ignoring the misery in this goddamm city, just like I became an expert at ignoring my own needs and feelings.
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