Solace

Where should I find it? In my own creativity. My auditions are tomorrow and I am terrified. The first and the second, the first and the second.

I want this so badly, this mark of approval that my head heats and beats blood about the space above my ears. I feel full of it.

So I shall write about little bird instead.

I hope she is not sad; all I want to do is to bond her to my shoulder and clean her tears. I do not care that she cuckolded her last boyfriend; she never loved him. One of my friends commented that she sells herself to the wrong audience; that is right. She goes to crap nightclubs and meets men there; she should at least aim for a more intelligent audience that's suited to her. I don't think I would be perfect for her; I am aware that this is all fantasy. But I do want her to be happy, and I don't think that happiness comes from associating with people that play, "fat or pregnant" about her behind her back. Oh Little Bird, I adore you fat or thin. You prefer yourself thin; I prefer you happy, that is all. I'd not let you wait till you were thin. I'd stroke your stomach and your soft thighs and kiss them, which would not make you worry less, but would show you that you are worthy of adoration.