The perplexity of it all! Is it all suppose to make sense? With all the apprehension, how is she suppose to feel adequate? The almost paralyzing, overwhelming fears that everything she does is wrong. The arguments and somewhat hostile disagreements with the people who are suppose to recognize the wayward behavior. The spacey, occupying thoughts of inadequacy that has always been and will most likely always be. The personal excruciation that no one could ever contemplate as being legitimate. The world could never fathom the severe, overwhelming worry that this once exquisite but now almost grotesque soul endures.
I want to know what you REALLY think!!!!!!!!!!
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this is something I've always thought was true it's a quote I read somewhere but I forgot, it goes something like this "Being ignored/unseen is equivalent to death"
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