Wednesday, October 29, 2008


What will I do when my legs go?

She was always running late. And on the rare occasion when she arrived early she always found herself looking in the mirror and thinking too much.

You do what you can until you can’t do it anymore. That was how she always rationalized it. It’s not fair. We have a few years, then tossed aside to rot. What’s left? Thinking about the way things used to be. Having kids and watching them go through the same exact bullshit.

The so called best years of my life are almost over. But what was so good about them? Ruined by jealousy and competitiveness. Battling to the top, knowing it won’t last. All day I worry about my weight, about my hair, about my clothes, about whether or not I’ll be able to impress some asshole that will only be in my life for a short while. You paint yourself up like a goddamn clown, you spend hours at the gym, you watch for fashion trends, music trends, word trends, any trend you can find. You have to fit in. You have to climb as high as you can. But for what?

Beauty is a curse. Girls hate you for it. Guys want you for it, and only it. How much longer can I hide these wrinkles forming under my eyes? How much longer can I keep these dimples from forming on the back of my thighs? How much longer until I’m that girl who gets passed by. When you’re young everyone wants to fuck you. Then you get old and you’re fucked.

But today you still have your legs. You do what you can until you can’t do it anymore. Cheer up. It’s your time to shine.

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