i developed an ed during my early teen years, and ever since i started smoking, i've been comfortable with my body. i have social anxiety and i've been in a state of melancholy for years on end. smoking is the only thing that effectively helps me.
This constant comparison, a thief of present tense, Stealing self-worth, leaving only pretense. My authentic heartbeat, a muffled, distant drum, Drowned out by algorithms, where do I become My own sacred space? My own unedited truth? Am I just a ghost now, haunting my own youth?