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I watch myself floating above 'acting' un-happily in the situation.
I grew up, few more years.
I'm at a bar. 5'3 standing up against some tall guy telling him "I'll take on your "Can of Whop ***".
I hide - Drugs.
No more hiding.
It's scary out here.
I'm paranoid.
I don't even brush my hair.
Next day could be cowboy boots.
Or a skirt and small heels.
I'm here - Who Am I!
And........
Where afflicated with Psyc Forum can I start my own blog.
I've tried myself writing, but cannot help but go back and read. Find it digusting, ignorant, negative and tear the pages out.
Why log/blog
They are still there, here. I still know them. Most RARELY show face. A couple VERY mean ones appeared.
Most had names so I could identify what behavior I was doing. I hadn't know I'd just acted like I had until I'd walked away.
Now I say, I'll never meet them again anyway.
But still....... I don't like who I am, who ever that is.
Wanna, be my friend -
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