Carly Catastrophe











Having a boyfriend in jail makes life really easy. You can go out without giving a second thought to what you look like. You don’t have to impress anyone. You have a boyfriend. And, you don’t see him at all for five months. It’s not like he can look at your letters and say “maybe you should put on some mascara”.  Eventually, you see him on the weekends. But still, two days a week where you have to care is not bad. The rest of the week, you can just be ugly.



I do it all for you. I want you to see me as beautiful, hot, sexy. I want you to want me. The bright eyeshadows, the eyeliner, I do it because when you look at my face, I want you to see my pretty eyes not my double chin. The jeans and mini skirts that show off my butt and my legs, the tops that show off my breasts, I wear them because I want you to see what’s beautiful not my fat stomach. It’s all done strategically. Draw attention to the good points and you won’t notice the bad ones.

You’re so many different people at the same time. You’re that cute nice guy from work. I want you to fall in love with me.  You’re that boy my roommate brought over last night. I want you to come over again because I’m here.  You’re the guys who hit on me who I’ll never be interested in. I don’t want you, but the attention is flattering. You’re my soulmate who I could meet at any time. I don’t want your first impression of me to be that I’m anything less than beautiful. You’re the girls I feel inferior to. I you to consider me as good as you. You’re the girls I feel superior to. I want to make someone feel inferior. You’re me. I want to see me as beautiful. As sexy. As hot.



et cetera