I was writing in the hope of catharsis. I figured that if I poured my heart out and emptied my brain on the internet, I would instead be filled with cotton-wool and glitter. This did not happen though. I don’t know why – it used to work. To a certain extent, anyway. But this time it did not work. Instead, every word I wrote was just further confirmation that I was completely fucked up. Writing it down made it more real, and I didn’t like it at all. So, I stopped writing. And thinking.
I am going to print this out and stick it somewhere prominent – like on the end of my nose – because I want to believe its true, and also because it has a pink background. But mostly because I want to believe its true.
One way or another, there will be cotton-wool and glitter.