Friday, July 10, 2009
fucking give up, man. really @ 5:41 PM
I think somewhere subconsciously I want to fuck up everything good. Like, I’m being very serious here. Like obviously I don’t want to, I love what I’m doing and how my life is going (now, anyway) and yet… I somehow still fuck things up. Why is that? I mean, really.
I just give up. Really. All the lying. Its all bullshit anyway, right? I just can’t do it. I have like this issue where I have to be honest all the time, which is ridiculous because I used to lie so much as a child.
Outed. Didn’t deny it. I just can’t, I can’t just… I don’t know. And I know its bad, I know I wasn’t supposed to, and I know I’m probably gonna get yelled at. I think for some reason I just maybe wanna have this person just stop thinking I’m so… fucking… I don’t know. Good. I’m just not. I hate who I am. I don’t get why people like me and have faith in me when I’m just shit, honestly. But at the same time I don’t wanna fuck it up, but I just did anyway so… I’m just an idiot. Honestly. I hate myself and subconsciously feel the need to destroy good things in my life.
Least, that’s how it’s looking. I mean god. But I didn’t wanna lie about it, I did do it, and I’m so proud of it… I really really am. And I just… fuck. I don’t know.
And yesterday, here’s the kicker people… yesterday at work I realized that much to my dismay Faith and Parker are not different. I’m sorry, and I know none of you understand this – but I’m not one of those strippers that just gets paid to get naked. I don’t look good naked, I just don’t, okay? And for once no one tell me that’s bullshit, because honestly none of you have seen me naked. Naked pictures? Yeah, called photoshop… thanks.
And I’ve become such a cheap whore too. It’s ridiculous. Stupid Atlanta and the cheapness of nakedness. Got fucking fingered for only $140. I mean, hell. I used to get paid $200. What the fuck. But it’s the standard VIP price.
I don’t give handjobs, blowjobs, or dish out sex. But yeah, whatever, put your damn fingers in me. Like I even care. Like I can even feel it anymore due to my body becoming so numb.
This is why I don’t have sex anymore, guys. It’s all such bull that I really don’t feel it anymore. There is no pleasure. It’s just there to make money.
But I can’t just give dances. No one wants dances from the fat girl. I look at all these beautiful skinny women and I can only hope one day that I’ll be skinny enough to not have to do the things I do. Hence the diet pills. Hence trying to finally do something about it. I’m sick of doing the shit I do. I’m paranoid as hell as it is anyway.
I feel like shit right now. I just need to get yelled at I guess. The pressure of waiting is killing me anyway. I fucked up, I was honest about it, said sorry, and I’m just expecting… anger. So, yeah. Go ahead. I’m ridiculously fucked up on so many counts.
I’ll never be happy with anything… with myself… will I?
Labels: lying, whores
Friday, July 10, 2009
fucking give up, man. really @ 5:41 PM
I think somewhere subconsciously I want to fuck up everything good. Like, I’m being very serious here. Like obviously I don’t want to, I love what I’m doing and how my life is going (now, anyway) and yet… I somehow still fuck things up. Why is that? I mean, really.
I just give up. Really. All the lying. Its all bullshit anyway, right? I just can’t do it. I have like this issue where I have to be honest all the time, which is ridiculous because I used to lie so much as a child.
Outed. Didn’t deny it. I just can’t, I can’t just… I don’t know. And I know its bad, I know I wasn’t supposed to, and I know I’m probably gonna get yelled at. I think for some reason I just maybe wanna have this person just stop thinking I’m so… fucking… I don’t know. Good. I’m just not. I hate who I am. I don’t get why people like me and have faith in me when I’m just shit, honestly. But at the same time I don’t wanna fuck it up, but I just did anyway so… I’m just an idiot. Honestly. I hate myself and subconsciously feel the need to destroy good things in my life.
Least, that’s how it’s looking. I mean god. But I didn’t wanna lie about it, I did do it, and I’m so proud of it… I really really am. And I just… fuck. I don’t know.
And yesterday, here’s the kicker people… yesterday at work I realized that much to my dismay Faith and Parker are not different. I’m sorry, and I know none of you understand this – but I’m not one of those strippers that just gets paid to get naked. I don’t look good naked, I just don’t, okay? And for once no one tell me that’s bullshit, because honestly none of you have seen me naked. Naked pictures? Yeah, called photoshop… thanks.
And I’ve become such a cheap whore too. It’s ridiculous. Stupid Atlanta and the cheapness of nakedness. Got fucking fingered for only $140. I mean, hell. I used to get paid $200. What the fuck. But it’s the standard VIP price.
I don’t give handjobs, blowjobs, or dish out sex. But yeah, whatever, put your damn fingers in me. Like I even care. Like I can even feel it anymore due to my body becoming so numb.
This is why I don’t have sex anymore, guys. It’s all such bull that I really don’t feel it anymore. There is no pleasure. It’s just there to make money.
But I can’t just give dances. No one wants dances from the fat girl. I look at all these beautiful skinny women and I can only hope one day that I’ll be skinny enough to not have to do the things I do. Hence the diet pills. Hence trying to finally do something about it. I’m sick of doing the shit I do. I’m paranoid as hell as it is anyway.
I feel like shit right now. I just need to get yelled at I guess. The pressure of waiting is killing me anyway. I fucked up, I was honest about it, said sorry, and I’m just expecting… anger. So, yeah. Go ahead. I’m ridiculously fucked up on so many counts.
I’ll never be happy with anything… with myself… will I?
Labels: lying, whores
credits.
