In 2019, I decided to stop being angsty and pent up about my work - and release it into the wild. I've always dreamt of being a writer, and know that deep in my core it is who I am, but external forces diluted my passion. Realising that I no longer had that genuine infatuation with writing was, to this day, my biggest heart break.
It wasn't until I started journalling my thoughts and days in metaphorical and sometimes indecipherable ways (mainly to harbour secrets and the inner workings of my brain private from others), that my love for writing began to return - slowly but surely.
When I released this zine, I had developed a very soft hatred for it. By the time I had gone through the editing, design, re-editing, refining and printing process I had grown sick of my childish outlooks and silly comparisons. I haven't read it again since the final edit, but I think it's important to immortalise and acknowledge it's existence in a non-tangible way.
I am once again in the late planning stages of another self-published zine, which I hope to release later this year. But in the meantime, I hope you find comfort in the words from my past.