He said write anything..I don't know where to start. So I'll just write aimlessly. I'll write as I think and I won't stop until my mind runs out of words. Is that possible? The mind is constantly going..its so loud. Sometimes I wish I could tell myself to shut the fuck up. My dad cut me off. I don't show too much emotion but he could understand how much that would hurt me. My family doesn't talk to me. They never talked to me actually. They thought I was weird, talking about me behind my back. Maybe not negative but discussing what they could understand. But not truly grasping me. I'm more than what meets the eye. Everyone is in a sense. Why do I have to feel guilty for my own life choices? Sometimes I want to feel pain and heartbreak. Most of the time I'm the cause of my pain. I cry about it and hate the feeling but when I feel nothing, I yearn for that feeling again. I love intense emotions. I love intense happiness and deep sadness. I hate intense anger and irritation. I hate depression. I hate confusion. Like what the fuck Josh! Do you like me or not?! Are you playing me? I can't tell because of all this pressure on my brain. I don't know where the pressure is coming from but it's constantly there. I wake up with it and take pills to hopefully swallow the stress. My life is chaotic because of the war inside my head. I now understand why they say money doesn't bring happiness.
Ghana sat back and reviewed her words. She messed up on a few but she wasn't going to go back and change anything. He told her to vent and it wouldn't be real if she touched it up.
"Violet" Her head turned back to the woman standing in the entrance of the locker room.
Her new manager smiled warmly. "You're on in five babe"
Ghana nodded rolling her eyes when the door shut. A few seconds later a white stripper with blonde clip in weave down to her back, stuck her head out from the bathroom.
"Is she gone?" The blonde asked with diluted eyes.
"Yea"
She walked out running her tongue over her gums. Becky was the type that loved black men. She mimicked black women and shot shit in her ass to plump it up. Surprisingly it jiggled and moved like a real ass.
Ghana concentrated on doing her makeup, occassionly looking over at Becky when she distracted her. The white girl did the most checking closely in the mirror at her teeth and widening her eyes.
Soon enough Ghana broke into a small laugh. "What are you doing?"
Becky grinned plopping in the seat next to her. "I'm so high"
Ghana smirked. "I don't smell anything"
"That's cause cocaine doesn't have a smell" The blonde teased with a jestful roll of her eyes.
Ghana lost focus on her makeup as her eyes widened towards the other woman. Becky's eyes did the same before realizing the girl was new to the drug.
"You never tried cocaine?"
"Hell no" Ghana's nose wrinkled.
Becky's mouth fell open. "Get the fuck out"
Ghana's eyes went left then right. "What?"
