"Is that a hickey or a bruise?" Oh Katy Perry.
Interesting day. Fo' sho' Bro'.
I just feel so weird. Weird. Weird.
I'm so NERVOUS.
I do not know how to walk like a model. And tomorrow and a few other times until monday that's what I'm doing.
I'm going to these people's offices. I'm going to smile.
I'm going to open my mouth and let words fall out,
"Hi, My name is Morgan Elle, It's an absolute pleasure to meet you!"
And then they'll say something like,
"Welcome Morgan. It's nice to have you here. Let's see your port,"
I'll hand it to them. They'll flip through it. Glancing up at me then back at the page.
I'll just smile and stand there, because what else am I supposed to do. I cannot let them know that my insides are being thrashed around in such a hectic matter that it's simply a miracle that I will even be standing.
And then They will scrutinize my body. They'll see every imperfection. Every layer of fat and extra tissue that shouldn't be there. I'll keep eating. I'll keep doing what I'm doing but, I'll work harder. The moment they deny me my one and only dream I will work harder to get it.
And then once they've taken away my last shred of self worth they'll ask me to walk for them. I don't know how. But I'll try. I'll do my best. It won't be good enough, so they'll smile and say that I'm good but not the right fit for whatever it is they want me to do. And then I'll go on with my day. The end.
Thank God For Youtube.
Teach me.
I'msonervous.I'msonervous.I'msonervous.
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