Break Up, Beautiful.

Hello society,

I'm losing faith. I don't want your well-intentioned advice anymore. I'm sick of those unhealthy shoves into a false reality. But who am I kidding, right?

I've spent my entire lifetime listening to you subtly press what's wrong with me into my mind; your carefully manipulated words burrowing their way into me like the anesthetized drilling of a deadly parasite. It's been killing me, and I didn't even know.

You told me you knew how I could make it better. You feed me tales of my escape until I was far to invested to leave. You got me addicted to this world for which I feel no desire.

You told me I could be beautiful - you defined it.
You told me I could be myself - with your step-by-step instructions.
You told me I could be loved - all I needed was you.

You made me believe I could climb gracefully above this mess, when all you did was help me slip further and further into your luxurious grip. And I wanted all you offered.

But the more I get, the more I want all those things I shouldn't need. The further I travel in the wrong direction, the more I don't want to escape. And the more unhappy I become.

So go ahead, tell me that I shouldn't throw up my food. Tell me I'm beautiful .Tell me I do  meet your expectations - just not as well as the rest of them.

Fuck your expectations. I'm done killing myself  for the rest of your followers. Today's "self-esteem" revival is just a fresh coat of paint over all your old, relentless abuse; a new season's colour in fabulous style.