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It seems the older I get, the less seriously I take myself and my writing. As if the older I get the cheaper my words become. I am less afraid of making a fool out of myself publicly, but having someone read my written words makes me cringe. I don't write with the same vigor I used to. Before I went on my pills. Before, I couldn't get out of my own way, I couldn't stop journaling or blogging, any literary outlet to vent my penned-up feelings, i took to it. Now I just don't think in my head as much as I used to...I don't think to my self, or out loud. I do, I don't think.....well, I supposed I mull some thoughts over in my mind, but lets just say I don't fight with myself over certain things anymore. I used to do that a lot, perhaps I've lost my "conscience". ever since I began my pills, I've been more sexually playful, open and questioning the prostitution laws.

So maybe my pills have helped me break down my inhibitions, including my own prudish morals towards prostitution. now that I have no qualms with myself, I have no qualms with selling myself, because I know the only compromise in sellling yourself is your heart and your mind....no one can buy that from you. Only you can sell them yourself, what a hell to exist in.

But my writing has been non-existent, practically. I haven't written my thoughts down in so long, I have almost forgotten what a steady flowing blog entry should look like.