Shy Bunny

 My Self Slut shaming has come to a tee. 

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Context. Someone started talking to me and I wanted to be friends. but their constant flirting got into my mind.

 

And one night they had invited me to come over after work. I was really tired and not thinking much of it.

 

I had only planned to stay for a second and leave after but one thing and pressure led me into their bed. and they started to grope at me and speak nice things. and I let it happen. I loved it while it happened. they kept me up all night. it was not until I was driving home that the Vail of shame wore over me.

 

Again I let it happen. give my body to those who only gave me words. I just let anyone in, It's pathetic I know. I'm just far too desperate to not. I hate it. along with other things. I am very ashamed of myself. I'm too disgusting for sex, and I am far less than worthy of dating anybody. 

 

only a slut worthy of whoever decides to pick them up off the street.


All I Know is to Whine And Bleed

I sit desolate as if I knew how to treat her. Do I really know myself. Is it just another thing only left in my thoughts? Would I really be a good partner? I don't know. I'm no better than a bunny in a snare.

 

All I Know is to Whine And Bleed. I create, and for that sake I am always exposed. Just cause I can't help it. I really must be insufferable to be around. to see all my feelings materialized through drawings and stupid blog posts. I'm just too open. to willing to let anyone know how I'm feeling in the day. 

 

other people have feelings. it's hard to know cause you don't come to the bleeding one for bandages. I wish to help others in that way but I don't think they would ever. cause all I know is to whine and bleed.

 

I don't know how many tries I have in me. it just seems another girl would just be another witness of my continuous bleed. one I just love to share and whine about. should I just be the stoic man, it's a pain I can't hide. I just don't know what to do. 

 

Not a single woman would really want to read the pages I've made. and bare my trauma dump to pity me once more. it seems the more I write I bury myself deeper. the more I share with her it seems to get worse.

 

Just give me dumb comforting words please. please

 

I'm such a fucking bother. needing constant reassurance and attention. constantly drifting into some loneliness until she grounds me again. looping and peaking, mood swings. from bleeding to Whining, It's pathetic. but It's all I know. 

 

I don't know If I wanna date anymore. I'd just be some girls problem. I know I am, I feel that to women who have not a obligation to even talk to me. yet they do, and I share the same pity they have for me to them. for putting up with all I do.   

 

 

 

Fucked Up Always And Forever.

 I feel like shit. 

It's Been the feeling in my hands. clamping at my stomach, since it was said.

 

Judgement, fear, worry. It's has not left. I only wish it could. I only treat it as a guest at this point. I feel I wear this band of guilt and shame, a band everyone sees. so strong I can't form my face to show any other emotion.

 

I do it to myself. Always flying to close to the fucking sun. like If it was something that could fix me overnight. what a fool. It's quite the abusive relationship I have with my past self.

 

Future me is always right, past me only thinks in terms of cute little love notes. There was still that goth girl that works across from me and does not even bother to glance at me. even though I am always the first to look. It feels pathetic. I don't even want to look that way just to again be the first to look.

 

This whole month has been fucking terrible. I feel so used and pathetic.

 

I immensely hate all my thoughts of sexuality. knowing it was what got me in trouble.

 

I hate my heart. knowing it was what got me in trouble.

    

I Think you can imagine what this has done to the image of myself. The stress sweat reeks like it will travel for miles. I only see the sheen of the oil on my face. and the thick strands of oily hair. And thinking of the mind that body shares it feels horrid. lewd disgusting thoughts leading me into traps and toil. romantic thoughts again leading me to a sense of hope. far to quick for me to notice yet again it's a foolish chore.

 

I don't have the energy to do anything other than just typing. I don't want to eat. it feels as if everything I eat sits just at the base of my throat. primed to just vomit the nothing I had eaten. Just to sit with my thoughts, I hope I can do something cause I don't know how much longer I can sit with myself.

 

Just listening to depressing music cause anything else feels foolish like Allen Poe at a wiggles concert. Hopefully it will snap the beauty of the world back into me. then again hearing beauty only makes me think of her. and then another loop and then its bad again.

 

I can only hope I'm just in some deep mood swing and give it a week or two and this will just be another little episode. but then it will just mean I'm at the peak of the swingset. and only due to come back again. So I guess I will see this again.   

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