oh no amanda

managed to write down a full page of my ranting, and it feels... good. and foreign, in a way that man, it's been a while since the last time i actually wrote my own feelings instead of frilly, pretty things i found online. i used to write everything, even more deeply than diaries, you know, when i was younger. and one time, i was around 15 or something, my mom went, so nonchalantly, about how she reads them secretly. i remember i was so mortified. the humiliation is so ingrained in my brain i actually stopped writing for years.

its honestly really sad how i grew up resenting my grandmother, hiding myself away, lying about a lot of things without giving her a chance to get to know me nor me getting to know her. and now its been, what, six? seven years? since she passed and how i long to sit and have a conversation with her over coffee and fried plantain.