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XOXO, Apnea
When I let things get to me they really get to me bad. The worst is when all of my senses become magnified. The normal sound of the fan swinging around will keep me awake until the sun comes up and the smallest bit of moonlight shining through the small cracks of the blinds will look like clear beams of light running across the room, almost like a flashlight was being shined in. It only used to take half of a sleeping pill but lately that just cuts the anxiety enough for me to be able to get up to go to the bathroom. Last night I was so scared as I walked down the hallway that I had to turn on every light switch as I walked past it. When I made it to the bathroom I looked in the mirror and scared myself so bad I almost fell over. My eyes were dark and I looked like I had been possessed by fear. The funny thing is earlier I had edited a girl's photos and her eyes had looked so heavy in a way I wasn't used to seeing. Then I remembered she had just broken up with her boyfriend and had moved out of their house, maybe she was filled with fear too and that's why our eyes looked so similar at that moment.
I know where the fear is coming from. I have recently gone through every set on my site and seeing it really affected me. I have no emotional attachment to any of it, it's not that. It's the writing from the set descriptions when I first started, and shooting the sets I shot just for "content". At a chair. By a window. At a chair in front of a window. Same bed, same pose, same makeup. The set descriptions sound so bad to me that I haven't even been able to update a blog because I couldn't get those words out of my head. I could barely write on Twitter. And so many of those photos, it just isn't me anymore. Everything I do now has love and soul put into it. I actually care about it. It's definitely not for the money, believe me. I guess it's interesting for someone to watch the progression from the beginning to now. It's definitely noticeable. The photos get bigger, the quality gets better, the editing gets better, the set descriptions sound like I wrote them with humility, but even still I have doubts about myself.
I wish so much I could tell everyone all of the things I didn't write that had my name on it. I have a horrendous story I could tell about things that have happened.
At least, as painfully slow as it has been, the people I wanted to find out on their own are finding out for themselves things I've been too scared to say or that nobody would believe when I said it.
Love, me
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