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Just watched the Marilyn Monroe documentary on HBO. It is amazing to me just how troubled she was. Just how much she struggled on a daily basis with her demons. She spent so much time pretending to be someone she wasn’t, that she never had the opportunity to find herself.

She was so beautiful and I found myself overcome with a sense of sadness as I watched. Her personal diary entries that were so beautifully written. How much she loved poetry, how I could relate to a lot of what she said about love. 

I could relate to battling with the same demons. I am not suicidal like her and much of the pain that I carry around with me is not at all related to my childhood or family life. I just understand how she felt. She wanted to make a name for herself and no one would take her seriously. 

She wanted love but it seemed like she could never find the kind of love that would last. 

————–> Marilyn, I adore you. We have the same birthday. We have the same intrigue about love. We have the same love of poetry. I to am looking to find myself. Rest in peace beautiful.