I sat on your lap, let you rub my thigh, lie to me, and let you believe it was ok. I let you hold me there while others walked by, oblivious to your actions, to the things unseen. Pressure building, even when I squirmed, you held me a moment longer against you, before letting me go. Why did you?

Hypocrites giving sermons.
I know the look he gives, he's not pure and holy, just another pervert with a podium.

No wonder so many like him are cheaters, predators, pedos.

Looking at all the sluts, dolled up, glossy eyes, wonder how many would let him.

Why do I hate it...
but want it too?

I feel like I'm already stockholm syndrome ready for whoever runs off with me. Don't care what happens, just keep me as a pet and let me have some screen time between whatever you would want me for.

So I can't take a lot of body criticism, I won't post my pics. I won't prove anything to you, I'm here to talk about my messed up head. And think dirty thoughts. Wish for more freedom and less shit, while being in the shit and giving up my freedom. I don't care but I do care. I read every reply/DM

I've got a few minutes of my space right now. I wish I had time for some self-care. Or someone to kill me. Not sure which I need more. Maybe someone who would help do both?

I want to know:
Mom, dad, or a sibling? If you had to pick, which one would you choose to never speak to you again?

Ok this:
Talk to me about losing weight.

Tell me I'd be more popular if I wasn't chubby.

Tell me I need to get motivated and work on my looks.

Then take me out for ice cream!?!

Then talk about being more "attractive" to then discuss being modest at church, tomorrow.

Shit. Leave me alone.

I accidentally flirted with someone who was helping me. Like I took kindness as attention and just let it fall out of my mouth.

Like why do I act like that? I feel dumb and awkward.

They just blew it off, 'can't be involved with you like that'. Now I'm pissed when I knew that before.

I'm just glitchy awkward. I've barely interacted and have already been blocked by 5.

I struggle with life, struggle to communicate, struggle to be normal, and just want to be dead most days.

I wish I was wanted.

I just can't do anything right.

Somewhat...