I just SAW the word “magic” and felt scared and now I’m just pissed off.

This word has become a trigger for me and I am reminded of something earlier I wrote about how its okay… wow… oh my fucking God… my writing both is a tool to help me and hurt me.  The unconscious is so fascinating.  I fucking can’t write words I don’t want to talk about, and I don’t like to be around people after a long empath stretch because everything about humans fucking triggers me.  That sucks man.  I so badly want to put a peace sign here.

the magic of pretty girls<- that’s what I was afraid to say, and just look, my world didn’t come crumbling down.  Maybe its that I can sense how people will react to me and anything I say, or the way I said it because I grew up with a lot of hyper-sensitive females (including myself) so… yeah

tots dig the effortless life cause you know you’re life is effortless when something like “talking” doesn’t scare you because the person you’re talking to isn’t going to change the course of their life based on something your’e not sure is even right?  This is the curse/blessing I live with.  I really do feel like Prue in that episode of Charmed.

yo life is fucking stressful man, and that used to comfort me because that meant I was actually participating.  In this moment though, its just annoying that life is stressful.  The same old tricks don’t work.

I want people to be afraid of me so they’ll leave me alone.  Psych 101 rears its ugly head as I am reminded of some insight into myself a wise woman friend once gave to me, that I simultaneously crave and am paranoid of intimacy.

I don’t like that I’m afraid to be myself because people don’t understand me.


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