Thursday, June 28, 2012


Greta:  When I got to high school, was when I started wearing black all the time.  All Black All the Time, like the name of a sitcom. 

I was very into dark, punk rock/alternative.  I wanted to be different.  Also, black was supposed to be slimming…. I needed to look slimmer, even though people said I wasn’t fat, I was “beautifully bodacious”...  Well, my best friend, Laura, said that. 

Only, truth is, I really was fat. I needed to hide that truth with black clothes.

I guess I was always hiding.  Using my clothes to hide me.  Everyone focuses on the outside of me, so they don’t look inside.  That means safety to me.  I never wanted anyone to know what I was like inside, because I was a mess.

So let my clothes give them my message:  dark, into punk, different and not-fat.

Please, let them believe it.

Thursday, June 14, 2012



I want to die.

If not die, then at least have everything go my way.

I’m trying to be normal, trying not to care or be pissed off or depressed, yet periodically, my face scrunches up and I let out a moan.  Tears are drawn up from the well of my heart and spill over my cheeks.  I’m ugly in frustration and despair.

Writing and crying.  Sniffling and gulping coffee.  Smoking and typing and wanting to run.  Wanting to hit someone or tell them how useless they are.

Feeling useless.