I’ve always been a huge fan of the Osbournes (I was raised on rock and roll), and I remember the first time I found out who Kelly Osbourne was. It was on an episode of MTV cribs and she was probably 13 or 14, talking about how much she loved *NSYNC. I knew at that moment she would be someone I would admire for the rest of my life. So, naturally, when I saw she had written a book, I preordered it. And when it arrived, I had to Instagram it. And then, she liked it. SHE LIKED IT! That’s probably not a big deal at all, but to me, it’s huge. Call me crazy, but whatever!
Sometimes, the only thing I feel like I know how to do is write. And in all honesty, sometimes I don’t even think I can do that very well.
Everyone says that the older you get, the easier life becomes. I call bull shit. I feel like life still doesn’t make sense, and I just keep screwing it up. I’ve always felt honesty was the best way to deal with things, but lately I’m not so sure (as I sit in my bathroom at 11:45pm, with a box of tissues next to me, writing this). I don’t know if my words always come out meaning what I want them to mean. And a lot of the time I just feel like this emoji: 💩 (without the smile.) and honestly, I’m in my head too much to ever figure out if I’m being reasonable or just a complete a-hole. Maybe this is stuff you’re supposed to figure out ealy in life, but I must have missed the mark.
I guess this is all just part of growing up. No one said it would be easy.
P.s. No idea of this makes any sense. Not worried about it right now though.
P.p.s I’m being vague intentionally.
P.p.p.s (is that a thing?!) Goodnight all.