Can't write what I want to write so I've written what I can.

Hmm...life really is interesting isn't it. In three months, so much can happen when you're a teenager. It seems like a lifetime, when actually it's been barely any of it. I remember the summer, how things moved on from one thing to another so quickly. It just...feels so different, but the same. I have no idea to be honest. Look at me, trying to analyse teenage life. Or life in general. That's stupid. Who am I to know. I'm just a little girl, you know. A little girl who spends too much time trying to figure everything out. There are times when I just listen to a song, or read something, or find something on my computer, and it reminds me of things that happened before. The summer was so different. I can't say I was satisfied with everything though. I suppose no one can be completely satisfied with everything, that's completely impossible. But what I mean is there was one main thing I wasn't satisfied with. That wasn't so much during the summer holidays though. Something that had made its home in the back of my mind. Later on, something happened, and I'm going to have to live with it for the rest of my life. I can't say it's not hard. I can't say it's easy to just stop. But also, I can't say i've lived the worst. There are many people in this world that have taken it too far, and have it much, much worse than me, and I suppose I'm lucky to have taken a step back before I took things too far. Going back a step, everybody was so different. But still, I don't know, they seem the same now, but, when you look back, they're different. Do you know what I mean? Oh forget it, how the fuck are you supposed to know what I mean. I'm starting to swear now, I hate my constant swearing. This is why I really value all the little things I have. Be it a small bottle, pieces of paper with writing or drawings, notes, just anything, because it brings back a memory, and I've realised that sometimes those memories never come back to life. But then again, sometimes they do. Most of the time they do. With me they have to. That doesn't even make any fucking sense. I value so many things in my life, and I value them so much. And, I start to rely on them, and rely, and rely, until every piece of my life is glued together by their very existance. When I fall, I fall fast, and in more ways than one. When you're young, everything feels like the end of the world. But the truth is, it's only the beginning. Maybe that's why I feel so bruised.