She was a virgin until age 39.
She was waiting to turn eighteen to kill herself.
She was always the last to be picked for team sports in PE.
She was a roller skater.
She was a loner.
She was an avid reader.
She was in love with celebrities: Tony DeFranco. Clay O'Brien. Matthew Broderick. Eric Stoltz.
She was always interested in the paranormal.
She was afraid of vampires, both real and imagined.
She was very naive.
She was hopeful.
She was a dancer.
She was inspired to write.
She was afraid to write.
She was bored with writing.
She was picked on, harrassed and bullied every school day for 12 years.
She was a swimmer.
She was a runner.
She was detail-oriented.
She was afraid of authority.
She was afraid of men.
She was afraid to speak.
She was shy.
She was the youngest soldier in her basic training platoon.
She was an advanced reader.
She was slow to learn how to tie her shoes.
She was in an aerobathon.
She was loved by her family.
She was loved by her animals.
She was loved (or so they said) by several men.
She was in love three times.
She thought she was in love three other times.
She was a traveler.
She was a friend.
She was an enemy.
She was plagued by self-esteem issues.
She was diagnosed with a precancerous condition.
She was a Shirley Temple fan.
She was obsessed with all things Judy Garland.
She was an actor.
She was born again.
She was almost raped.
She was hooked on Hostess doughnuts.
She was hoping to get married.
She was a dreamer.
She was me.
On the road of life, I'm one big accident. Sometimes the accident has already taken place, and other times it's just about to happen. Either way, my life is a bumpy ride to self discovery. And sleep.
1 comment:
Whats up baby?
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