my mind breaks in the ink of a pen

everything I write is a contradiction, I find myself more immersed in an author, so fixed that I forget my opinion matters. So I write, and I write, and I write, and then I look at it, and its all a lie. I think this will literally drive me mad. It's such a weird thought when you question if your fingers are actually on par with your head, say my mind is thinking something differently right now to what my fingers are typing? Isn't that what we do a lot of the time? We think something..and then our fingers censor it? I wonder if in the time it took for a thought to reach my hands from my brain, if my perspective changed. I hate when you can't go through an entire sentence without thinking its too vague, its too incomplete, that word is obscure, people might not know what i mean, is this commonsensical?

I used to think I could write "I don't like being a girl" and get away with it, now when I look at that I think is it the principal of girl that i don't like? or what i've seen in a common "girl" is what i don't like? Or i don't like having a girl body, a girl's physical makeup? Now, when I look at that, I realize that girl's commonly act in a way to be desired, not TO desire, but their desire lies in the attention theyre getting from satisfying someone else's desire. They don't, a lot of the times, respect themselves for a real individual person with thoughts, fears, hopes, and dreams, rather they see what makes others happy, they see themselves in others. That's what made me not like being a girl, because it was lonely to think I couldn't like myself.

But i do, and now I'm proud to be a girl.

i don't know how i got there. from there.

anyway.