falloutbitch12-blog

[falloutbitch12-blog]

I could totally finnish writing the first draft of my book today but I think I don’t want to??? I just... I’m not ready.

[falloutbitch12-blog]

Number Three - Birthday

My name is Harley. I was born on a wednesday. Last one, to be more specific. And I don’t mean it like “it was my birthday and I had a party” or anything like it. I was born last wednesday. Or at least that’s when I figured out I existed.

I’ve been here it’s been a long time. This body I live in is almost 20 years old, and I’m not the only one living in it. I’m the shiest, maybe? I mean, I’ve always been here, I just never thought of myself as a human being. A person. It’ s kinda scary actually, I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsability.

There are two other personalities sharing this life with me. Anne is Number Two. She also has her own birthday. She was born on a Friday in september when we were twelve. She also has always been here, but that was the first time she recognized herself as someone.... Real.

Number one is Lilly. Just because she was the first one to inhabit this body doesn’t mean she owns it. She already owns too much. She’s not “The real one” or “the strongest one” or “the dominant personality” or anything like that. The problem is just that she’s the one that is usually on control, so when people think of us, they never think of me or Anne, only Lilly. Even the ones who know she’s not the only one here.

Lilly was gone that wednesday. I had been on control for a while, and I had never been on control before, so I was really fucking lost. Everything was confuse. I knew I wasn’t her and I also wasn’t Anne, and I was just like “what the fuck am I?”. I thought I was nothing.

But I am. I am here. I am a person.

That has to be something, right?

I had to sit and think about it for a while to figure out somethings about myself, like my name. I really like the name I choose for me. Harely. It sounds like my, I don’t know why.

I’m the only one who’s not a girl. I think I’m non-binary, and usually a boy. That complicates stuff because the “shared body” thing. Me and Anne have been fighting the whole week because of our hair. She wants to let it grow, and I absolutely need to cut it all off. I need to feel like myself, look like myself.

She knows what it’s like. Two years ago, she took control for the first time after 17 years of Lilly being the only one who could make decisions. And the begining was horrible because that life didn’t belong to Anne. Those were Lilly’s friends, Lilly’s clothes, Lilly’s hair.

I’m telling myself I don’t hate Lilly, I’m her in a certain way, I mean, we are each other. We are all parts of the same person or something like that, even though she’s acting like a bitch avoiding her responsabilities and left me on control without any warning. And I know she’s here watching me, and listening to all my discussions with Anne, and ignoring us because she’s oh so much better than us.

I just wish I didn’t have to live her life.

[falloutbitch12-blog]

Ok, I need the world to end now

Because I’m sure not getting rich over night and my problems won’t solve themselves. And writing won’t get me any money, at least not in a country where most people can’t even read and the government just want us to fucking die. I was quite cool thinking I wouldn’t have to worry about my future because the amazona rainforest would be gone by then, taking all the oxygen with it, and, therefore, all life on Earth except for some bacteria. Or I would be hit by truck and die, I didn’t really care at all. I just can’t stand spending the rest of my life doing some boring shit for money. I got into art school but everything here just seems so pointless and fake. Maybe I should try again. Maybe I’m not trying enough. If I have to write one more fucking essay I’ll thow myself out a window, if I have to go through another conversation about how freud’s philosophy is shown on David Lynch’s movies I’ll kill someone. I want to create. Write a script not under Lynch’s perspective of Freud but under my own perspective of life. I want to write books and stories, and not sit on a room and study other people’s story and then write a paper on how that one character representes na european view of latin-american woman based on prejudice. I love to read other people’s stories, but to feel them, to let them come into my soul and teach me something by themselves. I’m so fucking tired of teachers and grades. I have skipped so many classes that if I don’t fail because of my grades, I will fade because of how much I just don’t care. Maybe I’ll learn how to use a sewing machine and start to draw clothes to sell. Maybe I’ll learn how to bake and start to sell cakes. I’ll send my books to every publishing house in this goddamned country once I have the money to afford publishing it. I’ll put every single shitty song I write on youtube. I just can’t stand sitting here doing nothing, just thinking about how much I hate grades and how I’m a complete failure and how I’m a disappointment for my parentes because I’m not on med school and now I’m failing arts school. I just want to write, and eat some cake, and sleep for the rest of my life.

[falloutbitch12-blog]

[falloutbitch12-blog]

Me: “Okay, now this character is going to do this, which will resolve that problem and keep the plot moving forwards. Yeah! That makes sense, right guys?”

My characters: