I allow people to hurt me. It's almost like I want it to happen. The way I open myself
up to others, revealing my every weakness and flaw, borders on the perverse. I want to
be hurt- and for what? So I can be justified in the way I feel? So I have something to
talk about?

Some bad things happened when I was just a reckless child. I didn't know- or, I didn't
think beforehand, or... there's excuses for that. I couldn't protect myself. Wouldn't.
Because I didn't think anything would happen. But I have no excuse now. My online
footprints weave a tapestry of someone very good at getting sexually assaulted. If
you didn't know any better, you'd say I looked proud of it.