You know there's always been things you can't figure out. Why do you do them? Why do you feel that way? Why is this seemingly separate to this similar thing?
Like looks. I never cared about how I looked; no makeup, why brush my hair, what's wrong with a bit of mud? At the same time, since I hit puberty and such, I have always hated looking at myself. I don't like having these curves, but I know I'm not fat or anything. So why did I always both not give a screw, and hate myself? Guess that my body is not right is the answer. How long have I avoided poking these things, and how many more of the things that cause me strife am I going to realise are because I'm not a bloody girl?
I die a little, by the way, every time someone calls me 'luv'.
But I feel like a fucking god when someone calls me 'sir' or 'mate'. Mr Ticket-Inspector, Mr Bus-Driver, Man-with-Jackhammer, Shopkeeper-down-the-road; you keep me from drowning in misery. Thank you.
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