boy, you sure look pretty when you're putting the damage on

I was running through thoughts to blog today but it was sounding far too Carrie Bradshaw. I guess that's the trouble with leading such a ritzy lifestyle. As a result, I'll try to be less Sex-y so as not to rip anyone off.

There are always things in your head that are hard to verbalize and I've been having lots of those lately (it's not just me, right?). Sometimes it's stuff you don't know how to put into words, and sometimes it's just stuff you don't look forward to saying or don't know who to say it to or when to say it, or things you want to say and feel stupid enough just for thinking them but it runs you crazy keeping them inside.

Was Carrie simply a writer with a column to write, or was she an exhibitionist whose friends couldn't provide any real answers so she had to plead to millions of people for validation of those hard-to-verbalize thoughts that most of us normally keep to ourselves? Was it internal strength that provided her the ability to bare her inner workings or was it an insecure search for acceptance?

I know Carrie wasn't real. But of course I am real, though perhaps a bit less ballsy or strong or insecure. Maybe that's why I don't have my movie yet. That, and I make far less sense.