The sun is out when I open my eyes. I’m inclined to curse the fucking thing. How dare it drench me in its warmth, doesn’t it know it’s too early? No! Of course not! And I should be happy it’s not hiding behind grey clouds. So I retract my malediction. I replace it with gratitude.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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