I accept progress not perfection. I really do. Now. But failing so many times begins to wear on a girl that ultimately finds her own value in outside praise and believes she’s loved when she’s accomplished things perfectly.

Effort is not and has not ever been the problem.

I must be fundamentally lacking. Inherently defective. Stuck forever.

I was just trying to make an adequate dinner.

Try, fail, try, fail, try, fail, try, fail




F a i l.

F a i l u r e.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s