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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.


Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

As I approach my 31st birthday, I wish for the kind of self confidence that Meg Ryan has in In The Cut. That shameless 'this is the kind of girl I am' sort of way that she moves around. If I were any kind of fan, I'd be watching the movie right now but it's actually bed time for me and thus, I am sitting amidst fire engine red bedsheets and contemplating a photograph of myself from a few months ago.

I can't help it, though. I know I'll never have the arms of a 25 year old model, or the legs of a racehorse, or the flat belly of .7% of the population. Instead, I'm forced to refer to myself as 'rubenesque' much in the way John Cusack refers to, as in the 'fuller figured' end of the spectrum. That's me. On the end of that spectrum.

But what escapes me, is the common sense that I'm not going to morph into a sylph-like figure with perfect proportions and my sense of humour. The body I have, is the one I'll take my last breath in, and somewhere deep down, I just have to say 'alrighty then'.

I hate that phrase. But do you see what I'm trying to say? No amount of listening to Ryan Adams with endless glasses of red wine are going to make me into anyone other than who I already am. The mold has been cast. Gish baby, this is it.

Now, I just have to write that on my bathroom mirror and everything will be 'alrighty then'.

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