********.
Sometimes I like to just make little mental notes during conversation. Little mental notes of what to say and what not to say to people, what topics not to bring up, how to make them smile, how to make them unhappy.
Well, Right now my mental desk is full of notes, so full I can no longer read them. I'm getting it mixed up with who likes pop music, who likes rap, and who likes those bands no one has ever heard of. I don't know who's favorite ******** color is green. I can't remember middle names. I don't really give a s**t. Right now I'm so concerned with being good at conversation but I realize that the more I try, the worse I fail.
I'm starting to turn the mental notes, in to full blown journal pages.That's right. You have a journal page, it's in the book under my printer. A page of everything I need to remember, rants about that stupid little pet peeve you do that you don't even know that I hate, everything I feel. It's in a book.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm just this horribly mean to everyone and they pretend that I'm nice. I want to read their journals, I want to know their thoughts. Maybe that's why I write here, so everyone who is curious can just take a peek inside.
I feel that anyone who wants to feel me being honest should read my writings.
The true feelings of my angry and hateful self, my sex-craving, romantic and flirty, passionate side. Affectionately named Asher.
The true feelings of my outer-self. Lilly. She's a sweetheart and a lover. She wouldn't hurt anyone. But then sometimes, when it gets down to it, she'd hurt everyone, if it meant helping her friends. She's protective.
I made these sides of myself in to my characters for stories. So that for once I can control them, I can decide who acts when.
Maybe I've become them so much, so used to controlling them, that I lose track of who I really am.
Maybe I'm just lost.
Too self centered and dreaming.
Maybe I'm just selfish.
AwkwardRaisin Community Member 
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