A few years ago, on a crowded city bus, a woman standing behind me reads the tattoo on my back, turns to her friend, and says, “She must like dinosaurs.”
(….if only they could find fossils of the Vaginasaurus Rex.)
Nothing stays buried forever= don’t fucking lie / be REAL.
When I was addicted to heroin, (which was years ago, before my daughter was even conceived) I lied all the fucking time. I lied to everyone and anyone. I lied to the people closest to me. I lied to strangers. I lied to businesses. I lied and I stole. All in the name of “getting well.”
I knew I would eventually be found out. No one knew I was using except my dealer and one friend, who lived in another town. I was dating an awesome guy, with an awesome family, and they did not know either; which I thought was kinda funny, because he had just gotten into the police academy…
Well, he found out. As did everyone else. Karma is always an instant bitch to me. I immediately got everything I had coming to me, and then some.
I have no desire to lie anymore. Everything comes out eventually anyway. Nothing stays buried forever.
Why are people so afraid of showing their scars, their wounds, their flaws?
We are all the fucking same, so who gives a fuck?!
We all fuck up. We all do shit we aren’t proud of. Don’t lie about it, it only makes people think even less of you.
I wonder how many real, honest, not afraid to bare it all people even exist today. Is anyone real? Am I being real?
I’d rather be a robot… no emotions….”does not compute” (in a robot voice, of course).
But I wear my heart on my forehead, and only because I don’t want you to notice that I actually have a five-head…
fullofhate 