Nowhere, really.

I spent the morning, alone, doing things women do when they are alone. Things they don't necessarily speak about. Nothing kinky or exciting, actually, just basic human grooming. Ensuring every inch of skin is clean, smooth and soft. Removing any possible detraction for the observer so he may fully appreciate the beauty of the body entire.

It's not an easy thing to do necessarily. In fact, if someone were to peer into my boudoir window on such occasion I'm sure I'd hear them chuckle as I contort and bend my body to ensure perfection.. or or maybe that's just me. Who knows? I don't usually bring up these matters with friends over lunch.

I'm in a funny place in my head.

I feel like I am fighting for every breath I take. I am much more at peace in the rare silence of my world, and in quiet of my mind. It's where I can be who I truly am and where my thoughts are free to roam. It's when I have to actually be who I am in this life, that I find myself choking.

Matching the inside to the outside seems impossible these days, which is probably why I decided to spend the whole morning perfecting the flesh. It's easier to examine one's outside then it is to examine one's inside, no? And the truth is, I know the answer to the question asked time and time again.

Where am I going?

Nowhere, really.