Other than the fact that I wasn't raped, this is the story of my life. If I could go mute, I would. I would speak through with my art. Even though, it would be tricky to understand the things I would say. Plus, I'd lose all my friends. I'd lose everything and become more of a freak. I hate that word. Freak. See, now you really do see the sleepless thoughts wearing in. That thought of understood art brought me to freak and now I'm thinking about being called a freak. One thought to another in less than a minute. Wow, Hettie. Pretty impressive. It's 4 'o' clock in the morning. What am I doing up? I'm sitting up talking to myself. If anyone should be called a freak it's me.
Too many thoughts now.