Meeting people for the first time and/or having to pick something to write or talk about in front of an audience.
I hardly doubt you want to hear about all the ugly things I did to get here. I hardly doubt you want to know what I do now. Why would you? It’s either not your thing, similar experience, or something you can stomach.
I’m going to have to tell you anyways. I’m not the best liar in the world.
You know I been kicked out, fired, ill popping prescription pills, and living off other people?
Or how about the time I would starve myself, hide away in my room and not talk to someone, met someone guy from Argentina I met online when I was a teenager, didn’t go to my prom — instead went to some party at a strangers house with my sister, lost my virginity in a hotel room with a guy I met online from Connecticut, posted nude pictures and videos on the internet, posed for playboy, and cheated on my boyfriend with my ex.
Or all these times that I still have some blind belief I actually did love my ex, cry myself to sleep, get drunk and cry myself to sleep, get drunk and text people I shouldn’t, and sit around bored as fuck on my computer with little ambition to do anything — yet try anyways.
And the times I still get rejected by someone or something. People still act like they know me, yet don’t know the first thing about me. They paint me out to be some creep, weirdo, enemy, or freak. Which I am not. It is funny because I never would judge them they way they judge me. So that’s fine. That’s great. I don’t care.
What else you want to know? Nevermind, I am DONE.