OK, we all know that girls have it rough, that’s undeniable. So many emotions, and we cannot control them; it’s not nice. One day is an entire bucket’s worth of feels, whether it be happy, sad or crazy. If you look closely enough, you might just be able to tell the difference of tears between girls and boys. Just a teensy difference. So, girls, this one is dedicated to you. I think you deserve a bit of an escape from the monstrous, dramatic, killer hell which some people prefer to call “everyday life”. Enjoy with a mug of hot cocoa, fuzzy robe, freshly washed hair and a warm blanket (unless it’s Summer, in which case – don’t), read this warming message until you fall asleep on the sofa. Honey, when it comes to your life, you write the rules.
Imagine – in a few weeks it’s Christmas. Unwrapping your dream presents, fingers of dawn sliding through the curtains, the tree gleaming above your head and – the biscuits have gone! Christmastime is definitely the best. Snowmen are the best part. If we have any snow. You know, at first, I was literally addicted to my new presents. Once, when I got a Furby, I refused to do ANYTHING because my Furby was hungry, or if it was sleeping, I would tell everyone to keep it down. Man, I loved that Furby. But then one day… everyting became a bit boring. The Furby’s demands were just annoying. I read the book one million times and the perfume bottle was half empty. It all changed and I hated it. I hated myself for not appreciating “Santa’s” gifts anymore, I felt like I was an absolutely awful person and that I should lock myself in my room, zone out for 24 hours and try to get a relationship on Movie Star Planet. Yep, life was a bit tragic then. But then I discovered my love for writing diaries. I wrote: Dear Diary, I hate myself, I’m so mean! Why don’t I like my things? I’m becoming a moody tweenager. I’m becoming my brother. Great. And et cetera. I could really express myself through entries and poems and whatnot. I trusted my diary. So much horrible anger and hatred filled the page, but then once I got used to so much writing, it was a release from life and feels. I didn’t worry about it anymore, because I always had my diary.
But, then it got lost, so once again, I put my life into the interweb. A place of wonder. A place of joy. Aa place of miracles. A place where The Aggigator was born