Do you believe that I am damaged goods? The trite manifestation of that hooker with a heart of gold, the teenage runaway looking for the father figure to clean her up, the dirty slut who needs only to "fall in love" to turn her sordid cocksucking life around?

What am I afraid of?

Being strong.
Being weak.

Relinquishing control to someone who can't take control -- myself.

I've always understood that I take care of me. I consisting of so many personalities, so many undersouls. Each day a decision is made in the mirror -- which girl, which woman do I need to be today to get through it?