My therapist recommended me to write everything down. All of it. From september 16 1994 until today. "Come on, maybe you'll get some money out of it" he said, jerk. Okay, let's give this a try. Goodmorning reader, at the moment I'm writing this, I'm 20 years old. My life is a cliché, a typical soapserie. I won't be surprised if in a few months a television maker is knocking at my door. As you may have seen, this is a blog. If you're reading this, it either means I trust you and gave you the password to my life, or I'm dead. Sounds fun right? Well, let's start at the beginning.
YOU ARE READING
Bumber Cars
Teen Fiction"I'm like a goddamn bumber car. When I come too close, it falls apart. I can't love anyone without hurting someone or getting hurt. I'm cursed."
