Words flowing...
I want to talk, for hours without stopping. I like it when someone understands what I’m saying, but the problem is that I don’t even understand myself. There’s one person inside me who is crying, another who is punching the walls, and a monstrous creature who wants to do ugly and dangerous things. And there’s also a little girl sitting in a corner, watching all this chaos and all-out war with frightened, terrified eyes. The little girl is me, but I don’t know the others.
When I look in the mirror, I see one person, but inside, I’m like a broken mirror reflecting a thousand different images. With different beliefs and desires. Each time, one of them becomes stronger.
These days, the “slutty little girl” has been taking over more and more. She has dangerous dreams. Her fantasies frighten me. She is full of cravings for pain, fear, and chains. Full of a need for absolute control, restriction, confinement, imprisonment...
I call her the “slutty little girl,” but she doesn’t like it.
The truth is, I’m biased among them. There’s one I love more than all the others. The one who is responsible and calm. She smiles and gets her things done on time. Some days she comes out, and I love those days. Peace, order, responsibility...
Another one is anxious and desperate. She constantly bites her nails and overthinks everything. She’s always worried that something bad will happen. Her heart is constantly racing and she struggles to breathe. I hate her.
The depressed little girl also visits me often. Of course, she is always hiding somewhere, and if one of the others leaves earlier or comes later, she takes their place. She doesn’t do anything in particular. She just forces me to lie down on the bed and do nothing.
I get along with all of them. But the “slutty little girl”—she makes me angry. I want to get rid of her. Her thoughts are too much. Someone needs to control her. And that someone is me...
When I look in the mirror, I see one person, but inside, I’m like a broken mirror reflecting a thousand different images. With different beliefs and desires. Each time, one of them becomes stronger.
These days, the “slutty little girl” has been taking over more and more. She has dangerous dreams. Her fantasies frighten me. She is full of cravings for pain, fear, and chains. Full of a need for absolute control, restriction, confinement, imprisonment...
I call her the “slutty little girl,” but she doesn’t like it.
The truth is, I’m biased among them. There’s one I love more than all the others. The one who is responsible and calm. She smiles and gets her things done on time. Some days she comes out, and I love those days. Peace, order, responsibility...
Another one is anxious and desperate. She constantly bites her nails and overthinks everything. She’s always worried that something bad will happen. Her heart is constantly racing and she struggles to breathe. I hate her.
The depressed little girl also visits me often. Of course, she is always hiding somewhere, and if one of the others leaves earlier or comes later, she takes their place. She doesn’t do anything in particular. She just forces me to lie down on the bed and do nothing.
I get along with all of them. But the “slutty little girl”—she makes me angry. I want to get rid of her. Her thoughts are too much. Someone needs to control her. And that someone is me...
31-35, F
