Moore, than a Pretty Face

My daydreams are strange thoughts that I try and control, depending on my mood or hormones on how fairy like or explicit they can become. I tell myself all the time there has to be something wrong with me! As I sit in traffic on my commute, I sometimes wonder? Does that person sitting in that car next to me have similar thoughts that I do, are they happy with their life? Sometimes I dream about running away, or a big move, and then sometimes they become more sinister, fantasies of, if I were someone else, being with someone else. It’s not necessarily cheating, it’s more imagining if I were in a different body with a different life with a different man, what would it be like? Would I be truly happy? Would I still be bored? Or would I finally be myself? I find myself standing naked in the mirror looking at myself, just standing there staring at my naked body, the body I wear as a shell, the cover for my soul, I find myself asking ‘what is so good about this body I have been given!’ as I pinch my skin and watch the girl in the mirror looking back at me in my reflection! Wondering who she really is? Who am I… really! People look at me, and I believe within 10 seconds they think they have me all worked out, they feel they know exactly who I am, and I am judged by that! Older women usually smile and tell me how nice it is to see a young lady making effort in her appearance, as most don’t do that these days, young to middle aged women give me filthy death looks, and men look me up and down, sometimes I feel dirty or even sick, as for that split second I am able to see into their eyes, and I get a glimpse of what they would do to me if they ever got me alone.