mediocre girls have mediocre problems

my cats have worms. my dad says, you always have the strangest infestations. i suppose he's right. i've probably got a tapeworm. good. maybe it'll eat everything i've been cramming in my mouth these days. or maybe he's talking about a different kind of parasite, the one in my brain that makes me want to tear my flesh off, that makes me lie about everything until even i assume it's truth.


my entire history is founded on lies. i'm ridden with them. the more i find the more i want to lie to protect myself. i need a new identity, to change my hair, move far away.


if only my secrets warranted lies. why am i always hyperbolizing, lying to make it seem justified?