This is really old (the dates are in the chapters), I'm publishing it now because I'm cleaning out of my drafts. It's probably horrible and pretentious but I'm horrible and pretentious too so I hereby present: (2014) I always seem to end up writing at midnight, it's therapeutic.


3. 2/2/14


I am so sick and tired of not belonging. I never know where to go or who to talk to, and one can only live as a passive observer on the internet for so long. I want to go somewhere new and somewhere fresh, where people won't judge me and where I can start over. 

And I am sick and tired of this country, of everything that is ingrained in its culture. What the hell happened with me, that I can't even call my friends out on their blatant racism and sexism? 

It turns out, that calling people out on their shit isn't as believable if you aren't a white boy. Hell, just white would do.

Maybe it's my own fault, I've never really been good with words, or at discussions. I speak too loud, and I begin sentences before they have finished forming in my head, so they come out half-assed like I don't really mean it.

I hope the next school year brings me something new. I hope I can stop feeling like an outsider, and I hope I meet people that are more likeminded.

But really, I know none of that is going to happen. 

I have yet to meet a Dane that doesn't think that nigger and negro are perfectly acceptable words. 

Maybe I'm just too fragile, not cut out for this life. Time to time I wish I was born a rich, white girl in Paris, London, Manhattan, anywhere else than here. Oh, the places I would go, the things I would do. 

As of right now I am nothing more than 






a tiny, tiny part of huge world. And even though I'm grateful for all the privileges I hold, I can't stop praying to be someone else. I just want to be







acknowledged for the talents I do not yet have.

I know all of this is wishful thinking and impossible, but hey.

One can dream, right?


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