Recently, I had a friend tell me she was interested in listening to Phoebe Bridgers. If you haven’t been living under a rock, chances are that you’ve at least heard of her before. However, if you’ve never gotten around to listening, that’s okay, because I’m here to help.
What I wrote in my journal abroad didn’t seem worth sharing since many entries were half-formed thoughts. But there’s more there than I initially realized. I wrote for the hell of it — which, I think, is the best type of writing. Now, I'm diving into my unfiltered journal entries from abroad — they’re raw, real and vulnerable.
If Past Me saw Present Me I think she’d think I’m pretty cool. I think it would make her write in her little journal something similar to this piece, about the college version of herself that she is looking forward to becoming. But she’d definitely think the reading thing is crazy. She wasn’t much of a reader. But she did like to write. “She” being me. I liked to write. And I still do. I wonder if the old lady in the little coffee shop likes to write
