#real diary

Well shit.

it’s been so long since I used this website properly. but it’s nice to see you guys. even if I did only have two followers.

so much has happened since i started this blog, apparently i deleted all previous entries. but now i want to use this properly again and actually use it as my diary. it’s not that interesting but we can try, i guess.

so maybe i should use this as a starting point, or i could just let you try to learn about me as i write more. yeah, ill go with that, it makes it more of a game, more of something that seems like a character instead of a real person.

maybe i am just a character, maybe this is just a story which someone is writing from the darkness of their room, trying to trick people into thinking that they’re actually a sixteen year old enby. 

well actually, that’s why im here. i don’t know if im actually enby. i haven’t been sure about fully being cis for years, but i always just assumed it was something that i was using to try to be special, whilst just disliking basic gender roles, but then i really started to think about it, due to the help of my boyfriend,,, hmm what do i call him ? can i just call him by the first letter of his name ? wait, i have an idea. im going to call him mark due to a little joke that i was making last night. no that sucks. ah i know. ill call him noir, for reasons. oh my god, if any of my friends find this, they’re instantly going to know who i am. 

well its not like im going to be writing much here that they wouldn’t know about anyway.

ahh, as i was saying, noir really helped me start outwardly talking about this crisis and now my friends all use they/them pronouns on me. :)) 

anyway. 

its nice to be back. see you guys soon. 

About five years ago, I was hanging out with a friend at an antique/book shop, she asked me I had ever read, "Go Ask Alice"? I said, "No, what's it about?" She said, "It's a real diary of a teenage drug addict."  So, I put it on my never-ending reading list.  A few years ago, i found it at a used book sale and bought it.  I finally got around to reading it and my first thought when it ended was, That was utter RUBBISH!  Propaganda!

It ends with the following epilogue:

"The subject of this book died three weeks after he decision not to keep another diary.

Her parents came home from a movie and found her dead. They called the police and the hospital but there was nothing anyone could do.

Was it an accidental overdose? A premeditated overdose? No one know, and in some ways that question isn't important. What must be of concern is that she died, and that she was only one of thousands of drug deaths that year."

That's like the movie Mean Girls when the gym teacher says something to the effect, "Don't have sex, you'll get VD and die."

I promptly came home to do some research and sure enough, "Anonymous" was a psychologist names Beatrice Sparks and it was indeed propaganda.

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