Wow, isn't this the most pointless gift ever? A journal. Or a diary. A notebook. I don't even know. It was a gift from my grand mom; I'm obligated to use it. Which I won't ever. It's a notebook...nothing exciting happens in my life. What's there to write about? UH, NOTHING. I don't and won't ever need to vent to an imaginary person. This book is not an imaginary person listening to my nonexistent problems. It's quite useless. I mean what could honestly happen that's worth telling to this imaginary person in this notebook journal diary thing. Whatever.
YOU ARE READING
My Life as a Teenager
Teen FictionWhat if you had gotten a journal for your fifteenth birthday and felt like you had no use for it? What would you do with it? Would you throw it away? Keep it on your bookshelf? Or find it one day and fall in love with the art of writing and venting...
