fryingpan
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11:16p |
[Isuka] It's cold and quiet here. I don't much like it. Especially because it leaves me alone with my thoughts and... as of late they... haven't been good. But I suppose there's a plus side to this solitude: it's forcing me to come to terms with the fact that I'm a terrible person.
I mean.... Pride. Envy. Lust. That's three of seven, that's not a good quantity at all. Four more and I'll be playing wih a full deck, though I'm not much fond of gluttony or sloth... I have to maintain my girlish figure, you know. Ha ha, that was a joke. Breaking the tension. The audience bursts into silly titters. Hold. And begin again.
I just. How many am I stringing along even now? And how many of them have meant anything to me? I wasn't like this, I was never like this... And those two were even teachers, I... what I did... and... The only two that remain are the only ones who I think I feel for but... what if I'm wrong? What if I'm just trying to... I don't want that to be true, I... I can't even trust myself. I don't know who I am anymore, or... what...
You know, I used to pride myself on being beautiful. Got endless pleasure from staring in the mirror. Spent hours brushing my hair, and picking out clothes, and just... making sure I was perfect. That I was the fairest one of all, haha. I can't even glance at a mirror without feeling sick now. I've covered them all.
I used to write. I used to fill pages with love and fire, pour my entire soul into my words. I wanted to make the world cry, laugh, sigh. Wanted everyone's emotions to be wrapped around my dainty little finger. The pages are empty now. Almost like how I feel...
Is my life, my being, completely defined by other people? Did I only make myself pretty to lure them in? Did I only use my words to ensnare? And what I did with... hn... Only pleased when I have someone to dote on me, I suppose...
God, what's wrong with me? I can't... I can't be alone, I need... please... I'm just falling apart. Falling... I'm afraid. I'm so frightened. |