I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has.
Feel the softness of my skin and the fullness of my breasts in your hands.
You fucking turn me on like no other…
I am happy. I think I really am. But then I get sad. And sometimes it overwhelms me how sad I can get.