less erotic and more grotesque, this, always doing the wrong thing (or feeling or...)

tiring out, mistakes and caring way too much.

don't I have a life? you tell me.

or better, don't. I guess I need to figure it out.

(does it show I'm crap at accepting help at times? especially when I feel guilty [oooooh-guilty! sing it with me!])

[damn, this blog is private as privates. As private as privacy can go and still be private within words. and not a tabloid. so. getting back to literature soon, I assure you, reader - it's probably not funny, when you don't know the characters involved.....]