Drama Infestation

Good day to my anxious fallen angels! I thought I knew it all. Yet I also have this old proverb in mind: The wisest people can admit that they know nothing [compared to what they could know.] Being a loner is safe and calming. However, recently I have been challenging myself to be less introverted. So I joined PRIDE club at my college. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bore you with the details of my ongoing obsession with a man I can’t have. They’re the most addicting kind of people. November 18th will be my first ever drag show. I will be a gothic queen named Seductress (seduce+mistress). The song I’m gonna do is Cool For The Summer by Demi Lovato. I gotta wax and do makeup. (Good thing I already bought my costume.) I have been practicing my dance routine in heels at my local park. Civilians pose a threat because anyone foreign of my knowledge is frightful to me. Anyway, I notice the other members of PRIDE club constantly talk shit about each other. Once someone leaves the room, the absent member becomes a target. No doubt they talk shit about me once I depart from their presence as well. That’s what I get for leaving my comfort zone for some fresh air. Perhaps fresh air doesn’t exist anymore, or ever did for that matter. So much drama occurs when people outside my mind come into view. I don’t trust them. But I’m not doing drag for them, I’m doing it for my own personal gain. I always wanted to try it. Joining PRIDE was a way to relinquish my curiosity and making friends was just an added yet far-fetched bonus. I know you all must be dying to see me in my alternative garb. I will definitely post pictures and maybe even videos of this spectacular event in my life when we cross that bridge together. My fallen angels, be careful but not too careful, or you will end up like me. Have a wonderful day! Over and out.

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Young and Mysterious…

Hello to my fallen angels! And any new recruits, I might add. It’s funny how people perceive me in many different ways. Older men see me as “innocent, young, naive.” Older women see me as “adorable, young, naive.” Professionals see me as “vibrant, young, naive.” My peers see me as “emo, mysterious, lonely.” My loved ones see me as “strong, resilient, funny.” So my postulate is older strangers think I am a child while young adults my own age think I am a vampire. Only the ones closest to me are more near the target of who I truly am yet even they are not fully right. Who am I? Who are you? Why, as a society, why do we label each other to establish some fictitious place in the world? I may be mysterious to most but maybe it is because I do not divulge my past endeavors or my personal life to every person I come across just to add on to the imaginary order of things. I am entitled to my own self-worth and comparing myself to anyone else will not make me any better or any worse of a person in the grand scheme of things.

“Life is not measured in years but in how many lives we touch.”
– Peeta Mallark, Catching Fire.

So true, but drama composes of touching many lives… in a negative way. So what is better? Drama or discretion? So yeah, you can label me any way you want if that makes you feel good about yourself. But do not expect me to trust you then. Have a wonderful day! Over and out.