An Open Letter No One with Stiletto Nails.

This is difficult, the typing. Imagine chicken legs with extremely sharp talons inaccurately punching buttery short Macbook keys while frequently stopping to correct spelling mistakes and also struggling to let my thoughts appear…cohesive. I just am writing this to make a statement, undoubtedly to myself to re-center. Accumulatively there has been a deep under current of issues and situations that I need to address in my life that have been taunting me in the background like misshaped monsters with glowing eyes in the dark (sounds dramatic, i know)— but are surfacing to my consciousness and I’m having trouble sleeping. Thus the re-center. Basically, I feel like shit is getting out of control in my life and I need to “cut the fat” and “deal with the goddamn shit”.

Why the fuck is it so hard to keep everything balanced in your life? And if that’s not the standard then why the fuck are we all so damned good at playing pretend?

Maybe I want to blame my hormones, Im sitting on my couch in a 5 dollar H&M dress bunched around my body like I’m wading in the kiddie pool with a donut of fat around me (YEAH IM WORKING THROUGH IT). I feel like Ive been eating all night but I also have been watching movies for almost 12 hours straight. Maybe if I unloaded a little of my burdening consciousness I can get a little sleep.

I wish we could all systematically work out life’s problems neatly and stylishly like any Wes Andersen film, but the Wilson Brothers aren’t my best friends. They seem kind of fun though. Footnote: Bill Murray and Jason Schwartz are like the Redman and Method Man of Wes World.

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