A-Muse Me
I love flirting for giving my insecurities a kick of confidence and my desire for being in control, ease – in knowing how pre-freaking-dictable people can be. But really, who’s getting fucked over when pretending? The pretender of course. Muses just nudge you on to bring out the inner. I fucking love people both in and directly telling me I’m desired and the like. But. In reality, all that shit is, is catnip. And like other drugs, it gives a temporary high and a clear reflection of personal feelings of inadequacy. *lies on shrink’s couch* I’d want my peoples to see my beauty and ugly, see through my physical and into my core and promise to choose they’ll desire my presence through my perfection combined with me rotten habits and shortcomings. And to know that I don’t intend on keeping the shitty habits because I hate them too. To love me unconditionally, like I would them. If it’s anything less, then *Ludacris’s rapping voice* mooove bitch, get out the way. Doors aren’t invisible. Everyone less can leave right about now hey. *waves*
