Dear diary,
Here's me in a nutshell: You can call me Paytoni, I'm 14 going on 15. I listen to music, keep my grades up, read books, and try desperately to be someone worth talking to. My hair's too big and I'm not pretty enough, but that's just how it works. I have a grand total of 5 moves under my (large) belt and my mom thinks I'm depressed. That may be true, but in the words of the Beatles, "I get by with a little help from my friends!" I have a particular weakness for milkshakes, and a talent for nonsequiter. My room's clean and my mouth is less so. In the scheme of things, I'm really not much. I don't even count as much of a teen yet-14 is pretty much synonymous with "almost 15" but I try my hardest to make an impact. Last year I felt a little more vibrant than this year. I could walk wherever, I could do whatever, and now I'm stuck in a HELLHOLE (not gonna say where) in which I'm constrained once more. Hopefully the location won't make me boring, but that is definitely a possibility that scares me as I have some pretty stiff competition in the "interesting"department.
Valentine's Day has always scared the hell out of me. ALWAYS. It is the truest form of evil teenage spite wrapped up in frilly paper hearts that I've yet to EVER receive. This is including 3rd grade when giving them out to everyone was mandatory. That'll probably be the subject of one of my next few posts, but for now, that's all folks! A little peek inside my head.
Lots of love,
Paytoni
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