GRLCHLD

All this stuff I didn't want is mine now

Paris Campbell Grace — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 14:08:27 GMT

San Diego, March 2026

For a while, I thought even the forks in the kitchen drawers would disappear, eventually.

No Narrative Mercy

Paris Campbell Grace — Wed, 11 Mar 2026 13:01:33 GMT

I’m jealous of the woman who lives down the street. The one with three children, a husband, and a dog. We’ve only met once, and when we did, she asked me to sign her petition to have the city build speed bumps on our street.

Speed bumps are annoying.

I signed.

I imagine her husband loves her. I imagine her kids look up to …

GTFO (demo)

Paris Campbell Grace — Sat, 28 Feb 2026 19:35:16 GMT

Yesterday, I was on IG and I got this notification on a (somewhat) older video of me playing a snippet of one of my songs, which is lovingly called ‘GTFO’:

Upon reading this, a plethora of things happened in rapid succession—

One, I remembered I wrote the song in the first place. So, I screenshotted my response as a reminder to not forget it again.

Two, I immediately went to type out the lyrics and add it to the binder of songs that are going in the EP.

Three, I frantically scoured three devices (laptop, iPhone, iPad) for anything from the original idea. Voice note? Notes app? “Untitled 58” in my iCloud’s ‘Logic’ folder???

Four, I sifted through three journals to try to find any evidence, where finally I stumbled across the lyrics within the back pages of two journals ago, written in right to left format… for whatever reason.

After all of this, I found the original demo in my iPad’s BandLab wasteland.

In sickness...

Paris Campbell Grace — Thu, 26 Feb 2026 23:16:08 GMT

I found a room in the walls.
So I climbed in, and I thought to myself,
she was never here.

air bubbles from underwater, basically.

Paris Campbell Grace — Tue, 10 Feb 2026 17:04:56 GMT

I’ve come to learn something about myself, and I think the truth of it is I need to be alone to… be.

GRLCHLD Vol. 3 is here :)

Paris Campbell Grace — Mon, 01 Dec 2025 13:20:42 GMT

I can hardly believe I’m saying this, but volume 3 of GRLCHLD is actually available.

Officially, she’s on the online store starting at 9am Central, but if you click [[HERE]] you can get one a couple hours early (hehe).

It took me a while to get back into the groove of making the zine. I kept trying to set various deadlines for myself, ultimately failing…

Steal my identity.

Paris Campbell Grace — Thu, 20 Nov 2025 19:48:38 GMT

I’m off to a slow start today, but I tell myself it must be just that. Regardless of when I start, I must—the longer I delay the start, the later the day will go, but it must go. I must go.

I’ve had my phone on ‘do not disturb’ since last night. It was either that, or go off on a man I’ve been ~~seeing,~~ for suggesting I order myself a ‘lil treat from a pl…

a typical show day

Paris Campbell Grace — Tue, 04 Nov 2025 19:32:17 GMT

Always the same - roll into a small town, go to a thrift shop, but if I want to buy anything she gives me that look, the one that screams “your money is my money!” Quickly, I put back whatever secondhand item I’d momentarily fooled myself into thinking I’d purchase.

We never stay for long, her wanting to move on quickly. We always seem to continue the w…

Stupid little bitch.

Paris Campbell Grace — Wed, 22 Oct 2025 19:52:19 GMT

Feelings I once harbored of pity towards my past selves turn to embarrassment and disdain.

I can see myself on an island, far away—I’m puffy, and I’m puffing. I’m huffing and puffing my way up rocky coasts, I can taste the salt in the air, and I can feel my flabby arms chaffing against my bare sides. I’m wearing a swimsuit too small to possibly be marke…

hello old friend

Paris Campbell Grace — Mon, 13 Oct 2025 07:41:10 GMT

I know I’ve been quiet here.

Peculiar.

Honestly, this is the most important place to me - my writing is by far my most personally significant outlet, and frankly what I have always known is my strength above my performance abilities. I’ve always seen it as the backbone of my future (creatively, at least), it’s what I will go to when I am unable to do an…

RIP GRLCHLD

Paris Campbell Grace — Wed, 24 Sep 2025 23:52:38 GMT

Hey everyone,

I received some really devastating news today.

I refuse to give anyone the satisfaction of hashing out details, but the long short of it is that backstock I keep talking about, of my physical work (my zines)… no longer exists. They have been “destroyed/gotten rid of.”

This news came this morning, just one day after making a pretty long jour…

Journal -- 9/19/2025

Paris Campbell Grace — Fri, 19 Sep 2025 22:13:50 GMT

All I have are endless strings.

You can’t save something someone is actively attempting to destroy. It is no longer a rescue mission, but a battle to engage.

I let another touch me and couldn’t face the world for a week—what now?

I can’t save anyone or anything, let alone myself, and especially us.

Sad exchange:
23:07
X: are we fighting?
23:10
Y: No and nev…

GRLCHLD Vol. 1 & 2 (Low [and final??] Stock)

Paris Campbell Grace — Tue, 16 Sep 2025 18:53:24 GMT

Hello Muffins,

Little inventory note in between our regularly scheduled sob stories…

Down to 15 copies each of GRLCHLD Vol. 1 & 2 :)

Reminder, they are available HERE (you can click me, I am a link).

There are some physical printings of these that I miiiiiight get back one day, but I have no way of knowing for sure… so I am referring to these 15 as “the f…

Marks that remain.

Paris Campbell Grace — Sat, 13 Sep 2025 00:50:51 GMT

More than anything I wanted it to be okay
Even at the end, as if a trick, I believed it would.
I carried the weight of vows
like a lantern in daylight—
useless, but still burning,
still stubborn with hope.

I held my breath through silence,
mistook stonewall for a stone altar,
thinking maybe if I bled enough
the cracks would seal.

But the house knew before I did.
T…

Journal -- 09/11/2025

Paris Campbell Grace — Fri, 12 Sep 2025 18:05:41 GMT

Didn’t realize it’s been so long, but what is time anyway?

My frustrations have turned physical, and I cannot work them out.

Wake up—sprint.

Fuck me.

I’m not even a runner.

I have a shit right knee, and no insurance.

Regardless, I’m back again before dinner—sprint.

PLEASE FUCK ME.

Daily.

I like it because people talk to me, they look at me, and I feel less alone.

Three people talked to me today. Two of them, I engaged with.

Psst… did you want a zine?

Paris Campbell Grace — Mon, 01 Sep 2025 02:53:42 GMT

Hey everyone, the shop tab is finally alive.

If you’ve been after a physical copy of GRLCHLD Vol. 1 or 2 - this may be the final chance, at least in its’ current and original form.

I have plans to continue the zine, of course, and vol. 3 is well underway. HOWEVER, it would be emotionally taxing on me to keep creating copies of the first two volumes, for

Journal 02:52 -- 08/31/2025

Paris Campbell Grace — Sun, 31 Aug 2025 07:55:41 GMT

Sometimes, I think about running, full-speed, through a floor-to-ceiling window of a skyscraper. Hulk-matrix style. Preferably an office building… mid-day, Midtown Manhattan, while everyone is clacking away at their spreadsheets—I don’t even work there.

I think this could fix me, and if it didn’t - at least it would kill me.

Cast-iron

Paris Campbell Grace — Sun, 31 Aug 2025 05:12:23 GMT

You say to “strike while the iron is hot,” but neither of us seem to be turning off the burner.

In fact, the flame is positioned under the iron in such a traditional manner, the only end result could be for the pan to get hotter.

If untouched, it will smoke.

We sing pointless words, with a multi-millisecond delay.

Not off by more than a second, but separ…

Block.

Paris Campbell Grace — Fri, 29 Aug 2025 07:59:31 GMT

Photo by Hailey Letlow on Unsplash

I texted my mother yesterday morning, mostly to gossip. I wanted to tell her the latest shocking, disappointing, and heartbreaking news in my life. Your mother, after all, isn’t an atypical person to contact in such scenarios. I tapped out a message, lamenting over this and that, mentioning my inability to pay my bills—”late fees on late fees, unmanageable, trying everything I can—”

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

She’s called. Truly shocking—my mother hardly calls me, let alone answers my texts.

I picked up immediately.

I can see her in my minds eye, laying in her California King on Park Avenue, probably in some silk nightgown.

“I am so annoyed!—” she begins, “I wanted so badly to go to see Lady Gaga tonight, I was only able to go last time because I was a guest—this time all the tickets are way too expensive, I can’t even afford $700 seats in the bleeds!”

Are. you. fucking. kidding. me?

cachedVideo (36)

Paris Campbell Grace — Wed, 27 Aug 2025 08:07:45 GMT

I’ll never again tell someone the exact ways in which another has hurt me.

For I have found, people use this information to re-create the scene.

For example, a folder.

Ripped videos.

Ari.

AI.

A trove.

The things I don’t know, yet… hello.

Dropbox.

Gen XYZ? Gen Learnhowtouseafuckingcomputer.

I love my phone’s camera.

I love my shamelessness.

I love my sense of j…