Perfect

I washed away something essential, and by turning my body into a self destructive machine, I won. I reached out and grabbed perfection by the arm. She told me it takes more than that, she said that the price to pay for its possession is high, almost unthinkable, and that only the strongest, only the weakest, are willing; but that the surrender grants salvation. I paid that price; I went half way and watched my life transform itself. Now I am more beautiful, and with great beauty leaves great responsibility, but there is yet miles to go and the stakes keep getting higher. Perfection demands more, she grips at me and gives me a taste of an alternative future, but the future is never granted to us on a silver plate. We have to play and play dirty to taste its juice. She calls to me in a serpent like manner, merciless, ghostly, never satisfied. She pulls at me, and the voices take over. I find myself torn, I know the strength is there, I know the limitless weakness that breaks the wall is right inside of me, and all it takes is one single 'no' to make the deal. I understand the implications completely, and my sick body reminds me of the hardships to endure, the betrayal I am committing by being loyal to the wrong queen. But what scares us most is what we call to, tragedy enchants me and I reach out to grab it. The promise of tomorrow is interlinked with tragedy, one will not come without the other, and as I feel the pain near my heart, in my stomach, in my head, I surrender. Perfection, you are now my queen, and I serve to you as your most loyal soldier.

Dear Peter Pan,

Dear B,

I realize that everything I write, I write in letter form. I need to feel like somebody is listening, because otherwise these words turn into wind. Dear B, I'm sorry I'm doing this to you but I feel like it's all I can give you... All I can give you is this void, an empty space that may kill you, but just as likely may help you live.
We're not all beautiful, sure as hell not on the outside. That's a fishism, a meaningless sentence created in a conspiracy. Dear B, one day I'll stop and I hope you'll say thank you. Dear B, I'm sorry I became you. 

There was a time in March...

My world turns upside down unexpectedly. His face appears on the screen and that is it, there I go, completely blown away. I love you, but those words don't even do you justice.

TOO PERFECT.

Dear 17 year old me,

I want you to know that what you're going through, what feels like the worst thing that has ever happened to you, will become the best thing that you have ever survived.

Tебе до нее не дотянуть.

I consume caffeine and nicotine, hoping that's enough to keep me alive.

Everything is fine.

So what's new with you?

Well let me see mother. I've become so obsessed with beauty that I haven't eaten in days, and the two times I did eat, I went to the bathroom and put two fingers down my throat. I'm not proud of it, but I can no longer live this life. I can no longer be around you and feel the disappointment, the silent judgement of how perfectly imperfect I am. I know you compare us, and I know that in your eyes she is beautiful, because she never let the food she ate destroy her. And then you look at me, the slightly bigger figure next to her, and you wonder where you went wrong. You don't realize this but that look kills me. I guess all children carry in their DNA the desire to gain the approval of their parents. I never thought of myself as this person, as someone who would become so affected by the outside world that I'd turn my insides inside out. I never thought I'd get here, but right now the end justifies the means. What else is new? I've been smoking a lot lately, it's my way of controlling myself. In fact, there is hardly a time when you wont find me with a cigarette in my hand. I know it's bad for me but right now it feels like the only thing that isn't bad at all. Don't worry, I'll wash all my clothes before I come home so you'll never know. And something else? I am dreading friday. I know that you both are excited but all I feel is mortification. The Caribbean is for beautiful people, and I have never been less beautiful in my life.

I'm sorry mother, for not being able to say these words out loud. Instead I say: Everything is fine.

Free

'Then I would ask you how you would describe yourself in only one word... but I already found it. Because I also have to give ONE word for the type of person I admire, and I really do admire you. You seem to me a very strong and self-confident young woman, one who knows what she wants and fights for what she wants. You travel a lot, you’re not afraid of taking chances. And then he said : « free », and I think that word describes you perfectly.'