samitha

i find it to be the irony of ironies that on a day in which i abhor myself, i see beauty greater than ever before when i look in the mirror. today i am the most beautiful i have ever been. i wish i could remember how to feel this one positive among thousands of negatives. i wish i could call it up at will.

i am in love with a construct. no, hundreds of intricate constructs that each find their way to the forefront one after the other. there is no constancy, only fantasy. i am so afraid to wake up. so afraid that the whole world will be empty.