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Old 02-17-2016, 02:38 AM
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wyf (Offline)
Homer's Odyssey Was Nothing
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When I lay in bed in the morning staring at the ceiling trying to find some reason not to stay there all day I find I am besieged by negativity and that is not what I want my life to be about.

I perform a parody of normality, I get up, I dress, I make coffee and listen to the radio while I sit in the kitchen eating toast in front of my laptop. I check my email. I look at the chapter I was writing last night and decide that no, I'm no writer, I am an imposter, a delusional imposter, and that my words are shabby and carry no weight. I check the clock often, as if I had somewhere I need to be. Then remember I don't.

I undress again, remembering that I forgot (didn't bother?) to shower. I leave my clothes in a heap on the kitchen floor.

I stand in the bathroom in front of the full-length mirror, appraising. It hurts sometimes. A new line, a new droop, an extra pound making itself known. I do not feel as old as I look. But time has not been as cruel as it might have been.

The water is hot and I obliterate myself in the steam. I stand under the stream and let the water wash me away. If I stand there long enough maybe I will disappear completely. I think back to my reflection and reach for the razor. Legs, armpits, pubic hair. Body hair makes me feel dirty. I need to feel clean. I need to feel cleansed.

I scrub. I exfoliate. I moisturise. I give myself up to ritual and spend an hour in the bedroom, drying and coiffing my hair, applying, removing, reapplying makeup.

I dress again. Not in the clothes I first wore, those have been in contact with dirty skin. I select underwear that makes the most of dwindling resources. The bra that makes my cleavage look 20 years younger. Knickers that hold bits in. Stockings, because I always looked good in them and men love them. A light summer dress. Killer heels that hurt my feet but make my legs look longer and slimmer.

I go back to the bathroom, wipe the condensation from the full-length mirror and look at my smeary, distorted reflection.

Some days, at this point, I will go back to bed and try to sleep the day away. Today... maybe things will be ok.
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How wrong it is for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself. ~ Anais Nin
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