I stabbed myself, once again, in the eye with my goddamn makeup pencil! I've broken my pencil beneath my eyelid . A polluted river of teardrops trickle pink across a newly painted cheek of pale base and ruby blush, muddying my once exquisite dermis into a carnation colored sludge.
Fuck it. I'm certain there exists a spell for applying eye makeup. The torture of my baby blues must come to an end. And hello. How is life finding you? It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of addressing you directly. For the past few months I've felt removed from myself, watching my actions from a distance as though in a trance. Gentle reader rest assured that this rude, experimental separation was an unfortunate by product, I believe, of last year's mystical stripping of key aspects of my soul, one of which contained my love that existed solely for you.
All three of you.
