An Open Book

Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been up since 8 PM yesterday, worked from 11 PM-7 AM, and I’m beyond exhausted, but I feel like pulling back the sheer curtain for a moment. I came to the conclusion a little bit ago that everyone is going to have some twisted, semi-true shit to say about you so you might as well get your truth out there first. I’m tired of censoring myself out of fear that the kids on the playground will tease me and not want to be friends. Fuck that. I’m 24 and, at this point, I am so sick of worrying about everything I do and say, and reeling about what I hold back.

So, let’s start with a bit about me. I am your somewhat typical mid-20s chick who binges whatever Netflix and YouTube throws at me, takes notes on literally everything in school, puts a lot of effort into my work even though I feel like I’m constantly falling short. I’m a sexual deviant who cornered the market in sex toys, because being a girl doesn’t make dating easier. As much as I would love to be thrown around like a rag doll the minute the wind picks up, I also have a working list of standards. I have a really twisted/dark/warped sense of humor, with the super power to make any situation awkward and uncomfortable. I have 7 tattoos, 3 cats, and can make a wicked rum and coke. I talk to myself because the only real socializing I have outside of work, video games and my wonderful mother is with Spotify. I’ve been called everything under the sun and more. I think my favorite thing I’ve been called is a cross between a brat and a bitch, because that just gives me the opportunity to really prove them wrong — they haven’t seen anything yet. The runner up would be when I’m called a whore. My definition of a whore is someone who is relaxed and has fun, and anyone that uses that in a derogatory way is really saying, “My batteries died and the TV remote uses AAA and not AA.” I honestly feel bad for those people.

Sorry for the chunk above… not for the content, but because it doesn’t really flow. I could have written it better, broken it up into a few paragraphs instead of leaving that blob of ramblings that make up who I am. I’m a sexual, tired, bitchy, slightly insane girl who’s making her way through life, and for once, I’m not ashamed of who I am.

I have too many suicide attempts to even try and count them at this point, but I’m still here. So instead of trying to be something I’m not due to the delusion that being myself is the problem, I’m just going to be me. I fought who I was for so fucking long and I’m over it.

From now on, I’m going to talk about what’s on my mind and just live my life the way I want to. I’m not going to go out of my way to hurt people, offend anyone, or to cause damage, but I’m not holding back anymore.

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