Because I am inspired.

I just watched "Music & Lyrics" for the first time in years, and it inspired me to write a song. I have to do a composition by next Wednesday so I'm going to stay up and attempt to write a song. I used to write poems a lot, which work as song lyrics, but now I write prose because structure isn't as important. So now I'm going to attempt to do two things I'm not good at: poetry and composition.

Wish me luck.

Because nobody ever got anywhere without trying.

So, my career choice has been planned.
I want to be a writer. I want to be a columnist where I can write and still have an influence on the lives of others just through doing what I love. I've loved writing ever since I was tiny, I wrote poems as I got older, and stories when I got even older and now I write to inspire if I can. So I want to carry on doing what I've always loved. I love music and photography as well but I've never had as much passion for them as I have for writing. Well, certainly not for as long, at least.

I always said to myself that I wanted to do something that I loved yet change lives at the same time. I know; I'm not going to save the world by sitting at a laptop writing, but if I can touch one person then that's enough for me.

So I have been told I need to write often, so if you want to hear my opinions on stuff or my ranting then follow and help me as I try to develop my skills.
Also, I write emotional stuff but I do put a humorous spin on stuff as well. I guess this is the perfect opportunity for me to experiment with my style.
Let's do thissss.

Why is society so wrong?

Ever since I was born, i was raised to work hard, be nice, do good and all the normal, cliché things that children are taught. but as I'm growing older, I've realised that it was a waste of time. I think I still work hard, i try to be a good person, I try to be nice and all those things but where did it get me?
And then I see people do such wrong, and get away with it.
For example, him. He got a girl pregnant; they were both 15 at the time. I was the only one he told, and I did everything I could to make him happy and make his life easier. This included lying to my own mother so I could see him and help, because he asked me to. I stayed awake every night, worrying about him. When she had the abortion, I cried. I hated the idea of someone not even getting a chance to live through no fault of their own, and it was someone that I would have known. It gives me a chill even now. He told me this girl was his third, there was another after her and he asked me to keep these things quiet. I did. Because he trusted me and that meant an awful lot to me.
Then we got closer and closer, and went out for a while. And he made me feel amazing. Truth be told, I wasn't heavily attracted to him. He wasn't good looking at all, and had the personality of a wet flannel but he made me feel like I was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I was confident, I felt good about who I was and I was loved by someone just for being me. Every girl's dream, isn't it?
But the truth came out.
He was a virgin. He lied just to get to me. We'd met up before, and I'd asked if it was the truth and he said he would never lie to me. No, he didn't say that. He promised. I don't trust easily, but I let myself trust him with all my heart and I started to love him after that. I say to this day that I didn't, but I know I did. Even just a tiny bit. We broke up, over text. Because he was too cowardly to tell me to my face.
And now I know more about what happened afterwards.
Met up with my friend and he knew that she was madly in love with him. But he met up with her, kissed her. And then got off with her bestfriend the next day. And now he's dating this girl, whom I can't stand. I stuck by who I was and was really lovely to her, and told her that I would kill him if he hurt her. but then she grew horrible. She sent me page long texts asking me how to keep him, saying how much she loved him. And she knew at this point, that I'd told him I still liked him (it was a badbadbad time, I'd never been any lower.)
And now they're happy, he's no longer a virgin and I'm still left here, watching them all from the distance. How come he got a good life? He doesn't deserve it. I'm sat here writing about it on my own at ten minutes to midnight, half in tears over this incident even though it happened... 6 months ago now.
Why? Why do people like that get the good life when people who work hard and try to be the best they can suffer?

I'm just sick of it. I don't like him at all now, not even as a friend. We talk. In fact, he's texting me now as I was almost in tears at band and he noticed. But I hate him. Irony is, it's not entirely what he did to me. It's what he did to others that makes me want to kill him. There's so much more I haven't written, and each time i think there's a little burst of flames in my soul that are telling me to ruin him.
I want to so bad, but I'm so scared.

Well, hello there.

So, I decided to start a blog. Actually, this isn't the first blog I've started. I was writing a bit on Tumblr, and I was writing on another website but Tumblr meant to many people I knew in real life could see how I felt and that made me vulnerable. And the other was the complete opposite, where I just rambled about crap that I wanted no one to see.
I'm terrible at keeping things up to date so I'll probably forget because I do that. But I used to write all the time. In fact, I'm planning on taking a degree in writing. I miss it so much, and how free and good it made me feel. it was one of the only things I did that I could come back to and feel proud of. So I want to fall back in love with it and integrate it with another passion; taking photos. God knows where this will lead but meh, might as well go for it.
 So, introduction.
Hi. My name is Stephanie Tierney and I'm 17 years old. I live in Essex, England which is one of the ugliest places ever. Well, it can be beautiful but not in my town or large village-sized housing estate. My main hobbies are music, photography and writing. I play the cornet, trumpet and saxophone. Technically, I guess cornet and trumpet are the same thing but I sound cooler if I play both. And they are different instruments.
I take photos pretty much every day. I have always adored art but drawing and painting frustrated me as I could never get what I had in my mind onto the paper. Photography meant I couldn't not get it right which I loved. It's just making the dull surroundings look beautiful. I love it.
And, as I mentioned before, I don't write as much as I used to. But I want that to change. I still write about how I feel when it's too powerful for me to express it in any other way and I love that. I've started novels based on that feeling. Never finished, but still.

Sooo that's me.
And you will come to learn: I NEVER write short stuff. Come on, my name is long enough.