Killing me slowly

There's something inside me that is killing me slowly. It is not a drug, not alcohol, is not a disease, is a feeling. From the first moment I felt this sudden pain inmy heart I knew it was going to be lasting, it was not any pain, it was not aheadache or a stomachache, not even the flu. I knew it was pain in the soul, in my little heart and my head. Gnawing inside me, I rust, makes me feel a social wastewhich is not at that point I am. At this point I would have to feel one of the world'sluckiest woman in the world, but why not look in my mirror and cry. I see in me anaberration, something terrible that nobody wants, who has been kicked out ofthousands of lives by their appearance, and is judged harshly by everythingaround him. I can not help that I do compare myself with all the girls are with me,and I can not see me up to no. I've always just been different in many ways, I lovelong talks about Stephen Zweig or discuss a picture of Andy Warhol, I like reading a novel while watching the rain, playing video game, watch movies likeWest Side Story, Moulin Rouge Mogambo, admire the beauty of the Pin Up, asAva Gardner, Marilyn Monroe, Lana Turner and Grace Kelly. That envy at the thought of the radiant beauty of these women, and the strings they are handcuffed continuously day by day. Is inevitable to feela freak in a society "Cani-poligonera" which looks only at the outer beauty. I can not show all my hate, because it all seems little. I have not enough words for Express hatred I feel towards those who admire the beauty androgynous women.I find it abominable.

Anyway, the story came not like taking pain inside is killing me, try it out with music, living each moment the note singing, saxophone feel inside, that the bluesmuse hidden after my curls after my shame, after my fear of failure or lost on the road. The fear of not learning enough to not reach far enough, the fear of not being able to move in a straight line. The fear of myself.

I probably would not know enough to say whether or not I have qualitiesdepending on things, but I'm sick of hearing comments like "she's better than you on that."In this and many! I have it clear that I am not your wife, perfect kids, butstrive to read between the lines, because the contempt for yourself is the mostdestructive that can be. I strive every day to find that inner self that no longer worries that if size 38 or 42,but who wants to take care of their physical health more than anything, that you can find a guy to talk, you love me for who I am and not what they say I have to be. And i accept reality as it is.