I played a dead hooker that placated to the European riche that would abuse a dead body because it was the only thing they have not done yet.
I put myself out there in so many odd ways, and yet I do not care. This is my blog, my diary, my fantasy and my way to throw out all the junk I hate about me, the world, and other stuff.
Right or wrong, it is mine, and no one in my 8 degrees of separation know about it. If they did, they would ruin ti for me.
So I keep this blog under the bed, locked away and open when I need to write on it. There is no rhyme or reason to my stories. One minute they are about a dead person, the next about a very live and struggling human being looking for a way to be better and escape the trap I am in,
A trap I created for myself built on years of programming and environment gone wrong.
I am getting better at seeing people for who they really are. I get caught up sometimes and forget. SO I tug on what ever bracelet I have added to my wrist to cover the scar and remind myself, that you need to watch out girl. No matter how old you are, you don;t think like the assholes and they are much more brilliant than I am at manipulation.
UI will one day, know just how to poker face this world.
One day the blonde will have it all figured out.
At least in time to come up with a brilliant quote for the epitath.