My Confession.

It’s been a long time coming, I suppose. You can only lie for so long before it eats you up inside. I’ve tried thinking of there being another way, but. I think the only way to just come clean. Despite the friends I’ve made with this alias, I can only hope I’m forgiven.

During my time on OD, I’ve gone by the moniker “Timmy”. The thing is, I’m not actually Timmy. I’m actually a black woman named Rhonda. I know, I know, it may come as a massive surprise to you. Timmy is actually a friend of mine. I met him years ago. He was always a big of an enigma, acting out and otherwise acting in quite a puzzling manner. I started this diary years ago, wondering what it would be like to be him. It started out as a psychology experiment. I wondered what it would be like to do the things that he does. Somewhere along the line, I ran with it. I suppose he is to me as BIGGAYDAN is to him, an unwilling participant in a work of fiction.

The self-depreciating humor prevalent in this diary has been mostly me making fun of him. I’ve always been curious what it would be like to be a white male. Well, more than that. To have the luxury to sit on your ass doing nothing, and still find things to be upset about. I swear, what a weenie! He’s a good kid, don’t get me wrong, but when I was growing up, if I didn’t do as I was told, it was ten stitches! He seems to have a complete lack of respect for authority, choosing to burst out inappropriate comments at the most inappropriate times. I used to write out some of the things he’d say into full entries, the reaction was pretty much as I expected. One of these days, he’s going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and BAM.

As for all the pictures, I swear, that boy can not keep his pants on. He should just keep them on, it’s on the smaller end of things, if you know what I mean. I really don’t know if he masturbates as much as he alludes, but I would assume he does. His hand is all the action he’s going to get with how inept he is with the ladies! He has absolutely no tact. He stares blatantly at women, treating them like meat. Bah, men! Yet, he thinks he’s god’s gift to us. And he hates cunnilingus. The hypocrite! Small dick and no tongue!

And this thing of his to start lifting? I can’t picture him even picking up five pounds, let alone the numbers I’ve fabricated. He’s just so puny, it amused me so much to imagine him trying to get buff.

As for me, I’m not sure what to say about myself. I like big dick and men who know how to treat a lady right? I’ve spent so long taking up his mock-persona that I’m not even sure how to be myself. I realize this entire diary has been one massive joke at his expense, but I don’t dislike the boy. It’s just an inside joke with myself that I’ve taken far, far too far. And I just can’t do it anymore. I already did his dramatic rise and fall. This feels like the story that doesn’t know how to end. It’s boring me! I’ve completely killed him, making people believe he’s some foreskin-restoring, weightlifting wanker. I just don’t believe it’s that believable anymore.

In any event, this diary is effectively over. I’ll probably delete it at some point, I haven’t decided. If I do ever write for myself, I’ll get my own diary. But I can’t see that ever happening. Peace out.