ana

skin lean weak quiet nervous shy and... happy. the emptiness eats away like a small furry animal hidden away inside you where no one else can touch it, pet it, fondle it. there are all these other layers that get in the way but are easily shed with the help of an obsession and a small yellow & orange notebook (swirly, mind you, with pink). and a blue inkpen, the kind that flows out so easily that sometimes it leaves a blot or a blob if you press it down too hard or too long. blobs that mean things. blue beautiful blobs of concentration. a light at the end of the tunnel. the tunnel that leads to happiness.

i've heard it said you can't love anyone until you love yourself. a lie. i love without letting the self get in the way. it's pure, quiet and shy with insecurity that feels like it belongs. it feels good. it feels right. it is what i want. to love and be loved without having to delve too deep into that whole inner me bullshit.

lucid, clear headed, bright eyed. it is all within my grasp as long as i remember that notebook and the rewards in store. true reward. long-lasting fulfillment. confidence. and not just that confidence in confidence that the blonde waif sang of so deliciously. real confidence. confidence in my skin, my arms, my neck, and my clever ribs.

a cigarette has no calories. life is beautiful.