Confession con.fes.sion (ken-fesh'en) n.
1. A written or oral statement acknowledging guilt, made by one who has been accused or charged with an offense.
2. An admission of misdeeds or faults.
My name is Britney DeAnn Smith and I am 17 years of age.
I have a so-called "perfect" life.
I live at home with my mother, father, and younger siblings.
I feel they don't really aknowledge my existance unless it's to remind me of how much of a screw up I am.
I'm supposedly never going to amount to anything.
I get talked about by my own parents as if they think I can't hear them... or they just don't care.
I wish nothing more than to become very successful when I'm older just so I can prove them all wrong.
I don't like very many people because I don't put forth the effort of getting to know them.
Those friends that I do have mean more to me than they probably know or I lead them to believe.
I have had a stealing problem since I was 8 years old.
I've stolen from my own family.
I'm a terrible liar, but can think up pretty clever excuses after I've already gotten in trouble.
I'm loud.
My favorite subjects in school have always been english and science.
I make bad grades in classes not because I'm not smart, but because I don't try.
I cuss all the time.
I can play "dumb" well.
I skip school a lot because I think it's a waste of my time.
My parents think that I passed my online math class when I really got kicked out of it.
My world revolves around theater, music, and art.
I'm actually quite creative.
I hate animals... except for when they're little and cute and can get away with anything.
I smoked my first joint at a party in 7th grade.
I've been so drunk I've had to get someone to drive me home in my own car.
I love being the center of attention even though I am really shy.
I don't do clean.
I love to laugh at practically everything.
I strongly dislike driving, thus making me very bad at it.
I cry a lot, over everything, even though I don't like to.
I tend to want to start arguements over stupid things because I'm easily offended.
I just recently started cutting myself for attention from my parents.
They still have yet to notice the 16 cuts up my left arm, yet I'm practically parading it in front of them.
I hate when people yell, especially at me.
I get attached easily.
I probably will never have children because they annoy me.
I have an odd fetish with good hair.
I know how to love even though I'm not sure what love is.
I have a slight addiction to pain medications.
I'm a horrible procrastinator.
I don't believe... in anything.
I am, in general, very fucked up and I don't know what to do with my life.
