Thinking too much this noon. About myself. About men, about sex. About a lot of things. Thinking that I'm damaged goods. Been raped, beaten. Have scars, am...flawed. Hurt too much, jaded, bitter. Have a kid. My heart is still wrapped up in...a dream. I don't see myself as "marketable" as a (friend?) put it. I barely see myself as fuckable. Goddammit.
Anything when there is nothing. Do *I* even make sense to me?
Laters