Poundcake

No one knows what the title means unless you've met me. So, an ice cream man, my sister, my mom, my sister in law, and maybe my other.

I wear it with pride. I wear it, knowing that I'll get looks. I wear it knowing that I'm going to be fine in what I look like. A big, fat, round, shapely, nice, and soft Poundcake.

So, if you haven't been seeing my snapchats or take a peek on my tumblr, I am writing again. Not just any type of writing, a story. Man, I don't remember the last time I wrote a story. Oh wait, yes I do.

A year ago. That was the last time I wrote a story. Now, most of them are fiction, but this last one isn't. I wrote it in this journal I had all senior year of high school. My English teacher told us to write in our journals. I love to write. I love to read. And most of all, I love to imagine. So, it was my last year in high school, why not go out spilling all of my secrets?

In the journal, it was like this blog, except it had a love interest, me! Haha, nah. I came out, told secrets about me that no one else knows, except my cat. Said some hurtful things and feelings I had towards others, and towards myself. I really hated myself back then. I mean I still do, it's just not as much. I don't regret coming out to my teacher before my family. Heck, I came out to my cat before my dying grandmother. I couldn't handle it. I didn't know how they would react. All Tiki, my cat, did was blink at me and meow wanting more food. Cool. Still the same fat, furry asshole as ever. Man, I love her. My cat, for clarification. Anyway, back to the journal. I said some depressing things, to say the least. I told the story, or should I say stories, of my attempts of death. I wrote down how I felt in my family. I said how I hated my sister, my mother, and my father for not being there when I was growing up. I don't care much for my brother, because he moved out the day I turned one. I wrote down the events that involved cancer and members of my family. I mentioned my parents and their situation. I even said something about a guy that didn't even notice me. Shit, no guy ever did. Not even girls, or my friends. Quite sad.
I mean, I was a weird girl.
I don't care anymore though. In college, university, or whatever you want to call it, I found people who love me for who I am. Funny enough, one of them is from New York. The other is from the Netherlands. Who knew that I would find my best friends from different parts of the world just by going to a different state?

Do you guys ever wonder what goes through my mind when I write these? Songs.
That's it. Right now I'm listening to Ghost by Charlie. She has an amazing voice.

Well, I guess that's it for tonight.
My letters will come in the mail, I promise, they have a reason to. Never question why I do things. The answer might be that I love you. That's it.


❤️Peace✌🏼️