wishing indifference, unsuccessful
unsatisfied with my last entry, i sit here, my eyes wet, still-my thoughts overwhelming as i twirl the ends of my braids-braids braided frantically to hide hickies-hickies you'd think an older man risking as much as he is, would try to avoid making. here i am, still twirling, still thinking, thinking about how stupid it is to bruise someone you love, or, pretend to love, and also thinking about how fulfilling life could be, but isn't.
i guess i can see why we're so reliant on all forms of media, because, as i sit here, still twirling, still thinking, with nothing but the enticing lure of the internet to distract me, i decide that i really feel like garbage. not only for things i've done and have not done, but also (sadly) because of the way people have chosen to (and continue to) perceive me. identity crisis? i keep hoping it is just something that happens to seventeen year old girls but i am never sure.
i am not supposed to care what people think of me. the life i made for myself has granted me this liberty, for certain. it takes a kind of person to experiment with social taboos the way i have. though my regrets are few and my experiences vast (more vast, i'd say, than most people my age), i am still curious, concerned-perhaps too concerned-with what you think of me.
i don't expect anyone to actually do this, and do so truthfully, but if you are so inclined, say:
what you first thought of me/what you think of me now.
i guess i can see why we're so reliant on all forms of media, because, as i sit here, still twirling, still thinking, with nothing but the enticing lure of the internet to distract me, i decide that i really feel like garbage. not only for things i've done and have not done, but also (sadly) because of the way people have chosen to (and continue to) perceive me. identity crisis? i keep hoping it is just something that happens to seventeen year old girls but i am never sure.
i am not supposed to care what people think of me. the life i made for myself has granted me this liberty, for certain. it takes a kind of person to experiment with social taboos the way i have. though my regrets are few and my experiences vast (more vast, i'd say, than most people my age), i am still curious, concerned-perhaps too concerned-with what you think of me.
i don't expect anyone to actually do this, and do so truthfully, but if you are so inclined, say:
what you first thought of me/what you think of me now.