I write to be who I really am without the restrictions of others and without the limitations of time. ….
My first memory of writing was in the form of a written apology I slipped under my parent’s bedroom door. I don’t know what I did, but I felt bad. I couldn’t (still can’t) find the words to say something to my parents. I sat down in my room and a calm voice in my head told me to grab a piece of paper and write a letter of apology.
I remember why I kept on writing. It was my way of thinking about all the things that happened that day – being around a lot of people for hours puts a lot of pressure on my brain, physically and mentally…writing is my way of answering “what the fuck happened today?” .. being around a lot of people for hours means more voices/noises in my head – what did he say, the way she said that, how did…
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