oh why do i continue to humiliate myself in flowery writing? i guess i must get some perverse pleasure out of it, or i just can't help myself, or it's too late now. oh why.

i think it's the same as the voices within us. i think my dad humiliated me, and his voice got inside me and now while he's long gone the ghost voice is inside me and it talks in my voice and it sounds strange, either harsh or flowery. flowery is a term my dad would have said. harsh would be his judgement, as would mine of me.