And so it Begins

There's nothing wrong with this, says she as she gets up, cursing her dad for never adding a lock to the door, but shutting it as tightly as possible none the less.

I'm simply revealing the deepest darkest secrets of my life to many many unknown people, hoping that none of them could possibly know me personally enough to connect past memories, along with those in the making, to my name, which I choose, wisely I might add, not to reveal. At least not at this time considering the fact that I'm not only ashamed of many of my past memories, but also that my current lack of self control could land me in jail, but we will get to that later.

I have to admit, though I thought of doing this many times, I never actually committed to it, so honestly I'm completely knew at this. It seems to be quiet easy enough, however, I can't help, but feel somewhat guilty that I'm putting off yet another huge AP US history test that is looming before me; tomorrow to be exact, so I'll continue writing between making flashcards, listening to the radio which includes singing along occasionally, and txting the object of my affections who is actually the one who could land me in jail. It's a long story. Trust me.

Flashcard # 41: The 3 Abolitionist Parties and when they came about.

It seems quite pointless to me, but I guess I'm the one who signed up for the class, so I can't really complain. It's not that hard, just a lot of memorizing, which I might add, is not my best skill, but somehow I'm managing to pass the class with a semi shocking 94, which is actually my second lowest grade, the first being Chemistry of course with a 90, my only B. Ehh; can't complain I guess, but it does get on my nerves listening to Ray [my much much older, 38ish year old half brother] tell me I should be making all A's. Well he can shove it, because my 4.7 GPA is certainly enough for me. I'm not bragging. Just proud. I've never worked this hard in my entire life and I think I have a right to be proud. Besides, Clemson doesn't accept slackers, not that I'm dead set on Clemson, but it certainly has become one of my finer options, USC and Charleston Southern being right behind them. I guess it's easy enough to guess that I live in South Carolina. It's kinda hard to keep that one hidden.

Flashcard # 42: What is the Gag Rule?

*sighs* I suppose that could be suggestive out of context. Hmmm.

I speculate, after rereading what I've written so far, that this could much be perceived as more of a story rather than my actual life. I always did say that my life on paper would sound more like some imaginably fictional slaughter and mutilated rewrite of Romeo and Juliet with bits and pieces of other tragicomedies, concentrating mainly on the tragedy part. But hey, it's my life. Might as well let others enjoy it, if that's at all possible.

Flashcard # 43: What did Henry "Box" Brown do?

Heck if I know. Apparently he was a slave who escaped to the North from Virgina by having a friend ship him to Philadelphia... in a box. He was shipped straight to the office of an Anti Slavery Organization. He spent 26 loverly hours in that box. How... comfy?? And this is going to help me in the future how? Oh well. It made me laugh, meanly I might add, for just a moment.

Yoga sounds nice tonight, assuming I can squeeze it in between my studying and my newly acquired taste for the fervidly erotic Julia Quinn novels. I'm obsessed. They're amazingly addictive.

I'm still contemplating how in depth I could or should actually go with this. I have a sudden vehement desire to spill all my secrets, hopes, dreams, and fears in a desperate attempt to better understand myself, but could that possibly be healthy?

Flashcard # 44: Who was the president of the underground railroad?

I suppose it couldn't exactly hurt. At least not that I'm aware of. The past 16 years, yes I'm only the cursed age of 16 years young, have proven not only challenging, but also painfully real. "No mistakes; Just lessons learned." Those lessons, however, have caused me to fall several times, many of those times I possessed certain understanding that I might never get up again, but, somehow, I'm still standing now. I'm here. I'm alive. And I'm better than ever in my own stubborn opinion, and I have many who will back me up. I guess this is the beginning of my story. It's one of current tragedy, but don't worry. I'm not giving up until I get my happy ending.