stop staring at me

stop. i get it. you've talked with me on the internet, wondered if i was real, and now I'm standing here doing the most mundane of things you do every few days, completely real. you linger in your car to see if ill recognize or acknowledge you, but I never will. wait there to see my tight slit skirt cut open up to my thigh when I get in my car, seeing how my curves meet up with my ass and get a better picture. finally making a move to leave. move along, shows closed, and i really did need to get that done today. stop making it harder for me to be.