Secret page OOOOO0000hhh.

Congratulations! You found my



Of course what I have to share is worth sharing. Everyone would want to read my inner thoughts, be a part of my life without actually being a part of it. I mean come on, who wouldn't love me?

Tickled inbetween these words you might find language that exposes my low self-worth, but that's all just a game. I force myself to be this to keep the light in blanketed. So I can remain invisible. In my own head.


Why is this human doing this? Another one of those yuppies who needs validation so they post their life on the internet and feed off the comments and page views. What, eventually you're gonna ask for money too? Move to youtube videos so you can monetize? LOL. Good for you monkey.

What if this website buries her self confidence even further? What if she gets really nasty comments and she can't keep them out of her head? What if she ends up meeting some cool people through it? What if she learns to be okay with and accept her weird struggles and that people like her regardless? bleh.


Great, spend all this time sharing parts of you even when you think you're gonna die. You don't deserve any attention at all. Forcing yourself to do this is only going to make you feel worse when no one cares. People don't like you, they like themselves and you know what you mean by that. You say you won't take people from their world as if it is some righteous thing, but really, you just feel unworthy of attention and love. Like you have felt since you were a child.

I know, I'll keep you distracted from finally posting this online by always finding more to tweak, more to add, more to do. And if it's not perfect, you'll never post it. Even if you push past that I'll never let you spread the word about it. MUAHAHAHA.


In some ways this is precisely why I struggle with my own identity. I feel I have been a reflection for so long that I cannot be anything else. My inner world is hidden deep. Should you get access to it consider yourself privileged. What everyone sees on the outside is malarkey, bovine, and posthumous. Or maybe, it's real, deep, and honest, but I'm too afraid to feel that.

Instead of simply being who I am, I curtail everything about me. A protection that served a purpose but no longer. And I cannot seem to let go it because of the maze I built inside me own head. Like in the movie Inception, I've turned it into a closed loop. And I'm stuck.

One day, I think.

I am an asshole. Don't believe a thing I say

In truth, it seems my pain is the only hurdle I truly have left. If I did not have this physical pain every day, I might find an exit to this maze.

I hope I find a way to live in this pain and feel worthy. To find a way out of my maze. And a way to let people in.