What I am

Invisible, to men at the bar, at Mad Planet, at any venue. I'm invisible to the guy I like...who tried to convince me he's crazy, but he isn't, in any sense. Addictive does not equal crazy, it's its own world, but understandable. Crazy at 16? Who the fuck isn't? I know I was...and turned a pedophile away from me...which was okay.

But I'm invisible. Kiss you? Oh, only if there isn't anyone else attractive. Or I'll Kiss When I Am Toasted Off My Ass. THAT makes me feel better. You, toasted off your ass, or Dumbass, because he's too socially inept to talk to actual women. In fact, invisibility seems great....

Invisibility versus stupidity. Great. No choices other than that, because I have to be greatful to what the "beautiful people" throw to me for leftovers....

And the guys just don't see that. That they are the leftovers of the gorgous women, and nevermind the dyke in the corner who can spot the female in men a mile away....and think that it's damn sexxy. Damn them to hell -- they deserve the tourturous ruin they get.