Useless Beauty.
It's only when I lose myself in someone else, that I find myself
I could lie and say I've been busy with my real life. You know, doing stuff, hanging out, being social. I haven't.
I've sunk into chat again.
Many, many years ago I used to tell myself chat was a good way to build self confidence without placing emphasis on your personal appearance. This was back when digital photos were not so readily available. This was back when I thought I was completely worthless.
I used chat to build myself back up to a point where I was strong enough to leave an abusive relationship. Because after I realized that someone could love me without knowing what I looked like, what I appear to be, I was able to say, "Fuck off. I deserve better."
I've used chat twice to escape. I say used because I know I needed something to get myself back up, instead of the spiral down I'm known for... the drinking, the drugs, the very poor choices.
I've used chat to combat isolation. All of the times I felt alone, be it actually in desolate wilderness or in a big city knowing no one, I knew there were people on the other side.
Now it's something entirely different. Now, it makes me feel a little dirty, and wrong, and manipulative. Now I use it to make myself feel better about my appearance.
I know there will be a flock of men in chat dying to talk to me. In hopes of phone sex, cyber sex, long distance relationships, mutual ego stroking. Regardless, I can get back into chat after being away for months, and there are suddenly all of these men that have had crushes on me for a very long time.
I have to laugh, because the feature I'm most likely to talk down seems to be the focal point of dozens of sets of eyes. My mouth. Here.
For every reason not to be here I can think of two
To keep me hanging on
Feeling nothing's wrong