Her Name Was Miss Elisabeth Short.

I hope the movie version of the Black Dahlia story isn't a real piece of turd. I've always been captivated by the whole tragic tale. It haunts me. Most of all, I'd love it if they catch her killer. I know it could be perceived as foolish to think that could happen after all this time. But I have to hold onto that hope, that whoever did it could be brought to justice. Because I walk home late at night, by myself, and sometimes I'm kind of drunk. It could have been me, had I been around way back when. It still could. It could have been, could be, any of us.

And when I say "us", I mean "girls". Because men don't have to worry about this type of thing. I could tell you why that sucks, and I could break it down for you as to why it's that way and I'd be more than happy to explain my insights onto how that could change. But sometimes, it all boils down to not wanting to live every second of your life in fear. And in order to do so, I just keep hoping.

I hope she's resting in peace. I really do.