(no subject)
Keep having dreams I've moved up to Nunavut to rough it, working hard and making my living one killed animal at a time, trying to stay alive in the peaceful quiet and nothingness of the Arctic. The cold comforts me, reassures me I'm alive, and then I wake up and remember that dream is dead. It hurts.
Tomorrow I begin Judo and Ballet, two classes guarneteed to make me painfully aware of every ounce of fat on my body and just how unattractive I am, but it's not like I was unaware of that before.
I know I'll never get to go there, but I like to look at pictures of Nunavut and just dream my stupid empty hollow dreams. It helps me remember there's some reason to keep going. One day, I tell myself, things will be different. They won't, of course, but it's a good lie, the kind of thing that keeps me going.
I'm glad I brought my hoodie. I need something to hide my ugly body in, and it's reassuring, It's all I've got, really.
Tomorrow I begin Judo and Ballet, two classes guarneteed to make me painfully aware of every ounce of fat on my body and just how unattractive I am, but it's not like I was unaware of that before.
I know I'll never get to go there, but I like to look at pictures of Nunavut and just dream my stupid empty hollow dreams. It helps me remember there's some reason to keep going. One day, I tell myself, things will be different. They won't, of course, but it's a good lie, the kind of thing that keeps me going.
I'm glad I brought my hoodie. I need something to hide my ugly body in, and it's reassuring, It's all I've got, really.