writers

i was the girl writing out across the paper, out across the internet. bleeding on her blog (hahah). all over her pages. i was the teenage dreamer, baby blogger, journal cuddling, diary writing all night, the saccharine syrupy sentences, ugly impromptu paragraphs. and other things. i still am, at heart. somehow it's harder to write in my own voice now i'm older and attach my name to my thoughts. other people call themselves so easily - it took me twenty one years to call myself an artist.