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I can’t represent for shit. I got it backwards- I got an Oakland face with an LA booty. I’m sure you know what that means, and if you don’t, well, have fun with your imagination. It occurs to me that I spend a great deal of time thinking about my beauty or lack thereof and contemplating on the place of beauty in general. Most of these posts refer to it somewhere. Is it because I’m shallow? I don’t think so, but why else do I always come back to it? I suppose it is my central insecurity, and also the one thing I am least able to fix. Sometimes I think things would’ve turned out better if I were hotter, but then, that’s the problem isn’t it. I can’t really make myself much hotter. I am this hot. The irony is how much colder I really am than everyone else- I run at 96 degrees, beezy. I can’t pull off layering because I get too hot and want to pull it off. Besides, we know you skinny chicks are just trying to hide what you look like under all those damn clothes. Yeah, I’m doing it too. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing it. Maybe we should walk free under the sun, soaking up it’s rays and exciting the pricks on all the guys we meet. But hell, I can’t afford the sunscreen for that lifestyle. I mean, really, sunburned nipples? No thanks. The fairy dream of the sun as the life-giving force of the planet is great right up until it burns you. Or melts the wax in your wings. But that’s life, isn’t it? You can’t fall too much in love with any idea, anything, any person. Too much devotion to anything burns. Perhaps one day I’ll learn to live dispassionately; it would hurt a lot less. But oh, the sun feels so delicious on my skin, warming it and caressing it as I lay out and think of how nice it feels. And no matter how many times I’ve gotten burned, I still go out and smile when it hits my face. Maybe one day I’ll get tired of it- but somehow I don’t think so. I think getting tired of the sunshine would be like getting tired of the city or ice cream or people- you have a few bad experiences, but it’s worth it anyway. Maybe that’s life? Maybe I won’t know until it’s over. Oh I’m so trusting. I might be a cynical bastard, but let’s be real, I’m a bloody optimist by nature. If I feel like you appreciate me, you can ask for nearly anything. You might not get it, but I’m never insulted if you don’t try to insult me. Oh I love you. I just love people so much… too much maybe. Like the sunshine. Lucky I have my clothes to protect me, huh?


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