Sometimes (lately quiet often), I wonder where teenage me went. She was probably full of anxiety as well, but at least she wasn't afraid (I think) to create and make things.
She drew. She wrote.. I mean, they weren't the greatest. Especially with the stories. I have to mentally prepare myself when I read those back. But, she at least wrote you know? She participated in rpg-story-written thingies. I don't know the right word.. But she wrote with other people. My gosh, how did she do that.
I want to try to make a change tho. A while ago, I dreamed about two guys and they have been on my mind. I want to write an draw them. It won't be a full fledged story. I know my limits, heh.. But I want to make short moments about their life? It will probably be full of cliche's and maybe a bit too much referenced from stories I've read, but can't remember.. So it will be mostly for myself.. But I want to try.









