It's tough being a teenage girl in a world of masked identities, spilling secrets into the air and never seeing the person behind the mask.
We all wear them, they all have detailed, intricate features we create from scraps of the media and how we want to be seen. The only way we can empty our feelings is to pour them out into our mind in a way that makes you want to rip your hair out, every... single... day.
They give you this bullshit about how your friends are there for you, but to what extent? Enough to make us feel fulfilled and make us feel like the masks we wear is who we are.
I don't know how to write what I want to say, I'm no English student, my grammar is barely adequate and thank the lord for spell check because without it this blog would look like my dog had just laid on my keyboard. I guess I just want to prove a point, that, quite frankly, we're all fucked, no matter what we write, we still remain in this screwed up society where we'll grow up to resent our parents, hate our jobs, compare every single detail to other people's better lives and dream of the good ol' days.
My mask is Marie, that is all you'll know of me, a fake name with no real origin. I am a messed up 17 year old with arsehole friends, no boyfriend/girlfriend and a crazy arse family. I go to school, I work, I seem to have a life when really I just want to spend my days napping, eating junk and netflixing... basically every girl I know then really.
I want to connect with you, the real you, not the version you show to the world wherever you are, but the real you, flaws, scars and all. Just like I'll be showing you, that is if you haven't died from boredom or fallen into a fit of depression by reading this.
But seriously, just give me a chance, ok?
