The Story of My Life - jk - Wattpad

Story cover for The Story of My Life by Jk2235_ptx

The Story of My Life

Прочтений 8,022
Голосов 1,491
Частей 188
Время 46m

Прочтений 8,022
Голосов 1,491
Частей 188
Время 46m

hehehe mylife outbursts quotes randomstuff rants soyeah storyofmylife

Hi I'm Jk, your average teenage girl.

HAHA JK! (Get it? Cause ny nickname is--oh nevermind bear with me I'm awkward)

I'm so socially awkward it physically pains me at times to talk to people. I'm the listens-to-music-all-the-time-talks-to-herself-too-much kind of girl. If you know me personally, you know how I can go from dead quiet to laughing obnoxiously in like 0.2 seconds.

To help me cope with being an introvert in an extrovert's world, I thankfully have my babies, Mitchie, Scooter, KitKat, AviWavi, and Kev Kev. These five choir nerds are my inspiration, and I'm obese with their fcuteness.

This is a book of random stuff. School rants, merchandise ordering, funny screenshots, Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi--whatever I feel like goes into this here book.

You have been warned.Все права сохранены

hehehe mylife outbursts quotes randomstuff rants soyeah storyofmylife

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FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.

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Slide 1 of 9

Rants. Rants. More Rants. cover

A fucking mess of poems dead stories cover

This might be a real thing between us cover

Random Stuff! Part Two! cover

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bound | jake sully cover

Just Trash cover

Blob and a Curse [discontinued] cover

Slamming Locker Doors (emo quartet high school Au) cover

Rants. Rants. More Rants.

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