

Why do I do this to myself?So I can say “sexy” with a straight face, buy clothes to show myself and wear them out on dates, display what’s left for men who’d pay for my half-size salad, hold doors for me and tell me how stunning I look, but take no interest in anything I have to say. So I can be what I’ve always hated and everyone else always wanted: bleached blonde and bronze and half-dressed- Impressing everyoneWhy do I do this to myself?
but me. So I can feel the slow rise of collarbone, ribcage through skin and know that I’m finally fitting in as I feel the deflation of
personality:
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"This is the way the world ends... not with a bang, but a whimper."
-T.S. Eliot
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Though you may not express your feelings, you do project them.
I feel it, every time...
That is empathy...
Commission me! [link]
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