Confidence levels low today.
Barrages of beautiful skinny women on posters make it difficult to feel pretty.
To feel wanted.
We try so hard to showcase ourselves as these perfect beings. I’m not perfect. Are you? No one is. So why do we expect everyone– everything to be.
I look. I see. I know. I need. I want.
I expect too much and want too much.
Millions of thoughts— billions. Joy feels so far away.
All I want to do is run and run and run and run. Stand on a cliff. Yell and expel the dark that seems to have made a home somewhere in me.
I don’t know where it came from
I miss the sun. I miss the light. I miss the feel. I know. I understand–too much. Or too little. I don’t know.