2001-04-16 | 11:11 p.m.

What is wrong with me when I look at what I'm supposed to look at and twist in shame and horror?

No seriously? Riot mentioned baggage, but you know what? What happens when you can't keep from walking because you have bags strewn all around you. Or you carefully step around said bags but somehow they always attach themselves to your feet?! I'm so tired of this. Tired of saying, yes I can, I can do it, I can say it, I can be it. If I could be half the shit I thought I could be then maybe I would be far happier. And I thought I'd seen all of this go already. But I was wrong. I really was.

Today something as stupid as being at Sephora and having these women look at me so accusingly, like why the fuck would I be there? Because you know beached whales don't fucking buy make up. They don't buy glitter or lip gloss or heaven forbid pretty eye shadows. Because I was caring that in my hand. My Benetint lip balm, my pretty Urban Decay glittery eye shadow and my Stila lip gloss. And I was feeling so happy for that single moment. Knowing that I had all my items in my hand and as I looked up I saw these 3 bleached blonde, tanned to perfection, and lip liner and glossed pretty women looking at me. Obviously not from New York. Obviously gasping and laughing at my selection. And I wanted to say fuck you. And I wanted to mean it. Instead I just dumped everything at the counter and quickly bit my lip till I got out. And I told myself that I would never feel that way again. I told myself that people could not control my emotions anymore. That I would. But how do you say that to the kid inside you who has always been bullied? And as hard as I try to be brave and strong and some sort of wannabe Karen from Will & Grace...well there's just no use. Because I'm not Karen . I'm not a Dark Angel. I'm not Scully. I'm no one that I look to with a smile in my eyes like I do with these women. I'm me. And that's the thing that hurts the most. Because I know who I am and what I am ain't that pretty to be.

I need something good. Really. I need that feeling, that rush. I need to rage against the dying of the light again. And it's hard for me to acknowledge this because it's such a big flaw of mine. But I do. And I really need something now. I need to know and believe and frankly that is a dark thing for me to do so right now.To know. To trust. to actually believe.



p r e v i o u s // n e x t