Anne Sexton, From A Letter Featured In Anne Sexton; A Self-Portrait In Letters

Angel, Rockwell Kent, 1916

Franz Kafka, 1912

Chris & Mike, Alice In Chains/ Soundgarden Gigs circa 1991.

im just the lame ass daughter who doesnt do shit and doesnt have friends

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i would love to write a novel about my teenage years, but i feel so insecure that no one would be interested in all the aesthetics and struggles of that age that i always push the idea out of my mind. i also have a bittersweet feeling of guilt because, on one hand, i want to preserve those moments forever and express everything i felt back then, but on the other hand, i'm afraid of being accused of "romanticizing bad times and bad actions" but that's just how it really was, and many people went through similar things during that time

any thoughts on this? i would really appreciate it

also, is wattpad still alive? is it still a good place to start?

Pero ahora solo habito esta carne errónea,

repulsiva para mis ojos y mi ser entero,

y me aferro al dolor como único testigo

de la batalla que nunca podré abandonar.