Description
I don't normally do shit like this. Writing down my feelings is weird to me... you never know who's watching. I was enrolled into this program by my old school to talk to a counselor every month and "write what I'm thinking"... so you know what? Fine. I'll write exactly how I fucking feel. I can't stand my mom. I mean... *scribbles* that's not true. I love her, I just hate where I am in life because of her. Everyone praising her every time they see me and mentioning how much I look like her... how much they want me to be like her... Why did I have to be born? Why did she have to be famous? Why do I have to carry her fucking legacy? It's not my problem that she's the most famous female boxer in current history. Sunset always tells me that I can do what I want. WE can do what we want. It's our life... so why does it feel like even when I do, SHE'S breathing down my fucking neck? *scribbles* I've never said this to her and I don't plan to so I'll say it here. Mom, I don't fucking care about your status. I don't care that you're everyone's damn savior. I just want to live my fucking life. I don't even want to be a fucking boxer. There. I said it.
Where It Ends, and Begins
