"I'm still playing with candles, blowing out wishes and blowing out dreams just sitting here trying to decipher what's written in braille on her skin." - Regina Spektor, "Braille"
This fatuous idea of perfection that I've seemed to keep failing to achieve is eating away at every part of me, picking the meat off of my bones and taking a hammer to the small shards of my soul still left intact. I set unbelievably high standards for myself, thinking that I need to be this tall, intelligent, skinny, beautiful woman who does nothing wrong. I have spent the past two days scrubbing down our entire apartment, cleaning everything and anything I could get my hands on. I want to be seen as perfect in his eyes, above all others.
I know - that is so completely horrible and shallow. Read more »

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