riza: ((Explicit content) Rahm you fucker)

I am not a pretty girl

and I'm okay with that

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Created on 2009-05-01 15:35:49 (#173944), last updated 2009-08-24 (425 weeks ago)

27 comments received, 44 comments posted

16 Journal Entries, 19 Tags, 0 Memories, 6 Icons

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Birthdate:Feb 12
Location:Illinois, United States of America
The next time you walk down the street take a moment to really look at the people around you. Odds are that amid the crowd you'll see an unremarkable girl, with an unremarkable face, and unremarkable hair. She's nothing much to look at, so most people forget her as soon as they've seen her. There are some people, though, who take a closer look. When they choose to do so they see that there is a spark of intelligence in that unremarkable girl's eyes. There is intelligence, ideas, wonder, and delight. There is hope and despair.

There is humanity.

That unremarkable girl will continue to walk down the street, not causing a stir or drawing attention, but simply calculating the world and drinking in the wonder of living.

Next time, be on the lookout for that girl.

She is me.


Fanfiction can be found by taking a look at my Master Fic List, or by hopping on over to my writing journal, [community profile] reversedwalkway.
This journal is friends only. Comment here to be added.



This is a countdown year.

Ten, nine, eight
It’s now or never, right? Nineteen. A bitch of an age. You’re a teenager, but not really. Only an adult when someone else decides you can be. Not enough of an adult to rent a car or buy a house or get a hotel room, but not a kid anymore, either. It’s a year of the lost. At least it is for me.

Seven, six, five
But I don’t mind being lost; not this time. Instead of aimless wandering, it’s curious exploration. “Oh, what happens if I do this” or “Maybe I should try it this way”? It’s like when you lose something only to find it, hidden away and covered in dust, years and years later. It’s almost brand-new, but still comfortingly familiar.

Four, three, two
Here’s the plan: claim it. It’s yours - do something with it. Don’t pretend that you don’t have a choice or a chance or enough drive or some other bullshit excuse. Welcome to my mother fuckin’ life. If you don’t like it, awesome. If you do, awesome. At least you have an opinion.

Let’s get started, shall we?


Come on, give me a hug. You know you want to. I’m a hugable person. I’m occasionally amusing, and I write angsty fanfiction. I angst. I’m depressed half the time due to illness, which also makes me cranky, but I never take it out on people that I like.

I’m also a selfish, conceited, self-involved brat who thinks too highly of herself.

And I have low self-esteem.

After all that, you still wanna friend me? I’d love to get to know you. Just introduce yourself, please. Here, if you would be so kind. My journal is friends only, due to the personal nature of my real life entries. All of my original writing is also friends only. So come on. Get to know me. Don't be shy.

If, however, you're just here to read my fanfiction, that is perfectly fine as well. You'll find it over at [community profile] reversedwalkway.



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