Hey you.

I never got a proper goodbye, a chance to tell you how much I love you. You left me without a sign, a word, a number. Just gone. You were my world, my best friend, my star. I’ve loved you like I’ve loved no other. Forbidden, fucked up, hurt, and depressing. Our love was never blissful. It was agonizing and resentful. We were crazed and brutal. I miss you and having you gone hurts. But why do I even love you. I could never have you, you could never be mine.

So, I almost wrote the day as November 20th, 2016. Shows exactly where my brain is. I am extremely sorry that I am not posting any updates, but here is why. I have a massive case of writer's block. Due to this I have only been writing one shots. I do not enjoy half-assing my work. So I currently have drafts ready but I have several different versions of each chapter as things flow to me. Currently I do not like any of them, so these may never see the keyboard. That is it for right now, I may update this later.

Two years ago, I overdosed. A year ago I would've said that if I could I would change it. Looking back now, I changed my mind. Had I not overdosed, I never would've gotten the help I needed. I never would have tried to get better from my illnesses. The choice I made that day, was a poor choice. I can't sit here and say I condone drug use, suicide, or staying silent. In fact it is quite the opposite. Hypocrite? Maybe. If I didn't overdose then, I probably would have been dead now. It was the lowest moment of my life. But at least I can sit here and write in hopes that it convinces one if they need help to get it. Nobody has to stay silent. So although I'm still recovering, I'd never change that decision I made.

Okay, so my newest post "The Stranger from Way Back When" is purely fiction. Please do not freak out about it, I didn't feel like this would be necessary but... you know. People will believe all sorts of things. It is purely fiction and has no correlation to any person(s) and (or) events. Now that I have that taken care of.

Please do not advertise your works to me or anyone else through my posts. This is my page and I don't appreciate things being shoved in my face.

Yes! I have a new profile picture! Yay! Please do not use my face as a basis for your comments, I do not appreciate it. If I wanted feedback on my face I'd post in the reddit's roast me section.

I think that is it for today...

-Cloudy

I can't remember exactly how old I was. Maybe three? Four, even... I cannot explain all the details, but I do remember some. I remember playing at the park every weekend. Feeling eyes glued to me. It was always the same man. And every weekend, he had a pretty flower with him, one which he'd give to me. My daddy always said never talk to him, but I took the flowers. They were pretty. No matter how hard I try I can not remember the man's face. Sometimes he would ask me questions, I listened to daddy... I never spoke to him. But I did nod and shake my head. He'd ask me things like, if I liked chocolate. Or if I ever did things. Weird things. Things that, I can't write or say because they're just so bizarre. I remember the day I last saw that man, he gave me a different flower this time. It hurt to hold. But it was still pretty. My daddy got angry at him. He called my momma to take me home. Daddy came home late that day. His shirt covered in ketchup and mud. I asked him what happened and why he was so messy and he just shook his head and smiled "You won't be hurt anymore.". I didn't understand what that meant. I watched the news earlier. There was something so similar about the story the told about the little girl who was slaughtered that reminded me of this past. He would give her flowers at the park, and he would ask her questions, only thing different is, my daddy told me not to talk to that stranger from way back when.

So, to hilariously begin, I almost titled this "February 14th, 2019" I guess that counts as a sneak peek to what I am currently working on for those of you that actively follow my stories. On a different note it is the two-year anniversary of the day my papa passed. It is a rough day, yes, but I ask for no sympathy. I could sit and tell the story of our last conversation together, it would surely result in me breaking down into tears. Or I could tell the stories of how he's been haunting me, with reminders that he cares and worries. I could tell stories of just him. But, a part of me feels he wouldn't want me to focus on the past, and instead focus on the now. So I shall change the topic officially.

I am currently thinking about starting a new project of a crime story, I wonder if it is noticable that I have been watching quite a bit of Criminal Minds lately. My issue with this is I have a lot of villianesque characters planned out and one thing I'm horrible with is names. I'm also a person who *has* to get facts right. Even in fiction writing. There's a story I have been working on for multiple years, in which I am constantly consulting my friend who has experience as a doctor, about facts. However, although I am close with people who have worked in the law, some questions I just worry about asking, especially if I want to write about a serial killer. I get that I am already writing about a serial killer in complete fantasy-fiction. However it is different because in this idea of a project I want there to be a detective side to the story.

I might publish part of my journal from when I was in a rehabilitation facility as well as in the hospital. This will be in a completely different category than the one's I currently have. This is due to the fact that there are triggering topics, but it's also a dated journal. This section will be at the end of my online journal (what you are currently reading). It also doesn't pertain to writing ideas such as these journal entries. I think thats all I have for today.

-Cloudy

Well, here we are, over a month later. And how many updates have I done? 0. A big fat zero. I am unsure whether this is due to writer's block, or due to it being holiday season and thus the most stressful time of the year. Honestly, I thought that meant that I would write more. I've started to write in the past month but, frankly, everything I have produced has been dull and boring. I'm also being haunted? So that's a thing. Yes, I believe in ghosts and yes I whole-heartedly believe I am being haunted. So I don't need the comments about "GHOSTS AREN'T REAL!1!!!!11!!" I understand others have different beliefs but don't try to discount what's going on.

I'm dealing with quite a lot as well, this time two years ago I lost two people very close to me. My best friend and my papa. Both were great people. I've been greatly struggling with this. I wouldn't expect a complete update until probably January.

Why hello my lovelies! I'm sorry it has been so long since I have posted an update, or written anything. There has been a lot going on in my life that has left me at a mental roadblock. I have also started to fall behind in school so I have been working like clockwork. October is also one of my busiest months considering I am a Special Effects Make-up Artist. Wow is that a mouthful. I truly am sorry for being unable to update anything for the last few weeks. I intend to get back into the swing of things very soon so please be patient.

-Cloudy

Hi, I'm Jenn but people call me Cloudy. This is my journal, in reading this you are learning about me as a person. My past, present, and dreams fill the pages. This book is divided into sections. Each section marked by a prologue. Follow me on this journey through my life.

-Cloudy