That Girl totally lost her shit this week. Like, if there was an MTV exec around, she'd have her own show. Not a compliment.
That Girl had the greatest week this week. She hung out with a guy who sometimes reminds her of a serial killer in a good way. Plus, he let her read his not-private blog, and told her the (highly edited) story of his life, which is how you know it's serious.
That Girl was scared yesterday when she woke up and realised it had happened again but she hadn't noticed.
By the way, that guy made a cute face at 10 am, which is irrelevant but true.
That Girl feels tired and better now, but kind of misses the relentless energy of exhaustion.
She stopped writing because she couldn't recognize herself in her words and was terrified.
She's braver now.
She should hold off on the Red Bull, though. She already has wings.
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