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TyRANTosaurus Margo! |
Woke up pissed this morning (I suppose that’s better than waking up in terror, which used to be par for the course). I was going to go to the gym to burn off some of the tension, but first (as always), I got on the scale. Just keepin’ it real, folks:
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I’m physically healthy. My hair’s not falling out. My teeth are fine (and try those Crest Whitestrips—they really work!). Control freak that I am, I bought an expensive fertility monitor, and it indicates that I am ovulating (today, in fact). I still menstruate. I’m still sub-clinical, in other words.
And let me tell you something: I have never, ever received as much appreciative attention from males as I have recently. That’s a fact, and I’m not bragging about it; I think it’s fucked up. I know you’re thinking, “Miss Margo, they’re staring at you because they’re appalled and you look like a hockey stick with hair.” But no, I’ve been hit on since I was 14 years old, and I’m telling you, I get stopped on the street, I get passed business cards, I get invited to dinner (hardy-har-har), I get modeling jobs even though I’m past the modeling expiration date, and The Biz—should I take it up again this weekend—is booming. I found photos of myself that my (good) boyfriend took of me when I was 20 years old. There is no comparison. Today, it makes me full of hatred. But it’s okay. I think it’s healthy. The hatred, I mean. In the proper context, hatred can be therapeutic.
I have learned, from my neo-Freudian analyst, that in a sense, opposites are the same thing. Instead of a spectrum, from right to left, they are more like a circle that unites underneath. The desire to murder and the urge towards suicide are the same thing, the same energy. For the first time in a long time—maybe one of the first times in my life—I feel full of rage. And I feel very, very dangerous. Power, directed outward.
I am preparing to go to war with an institution whose organizational structure and political culture is not unlike that of, say, Bulgaria. I will get what I want—I will earn what I want—and I will not stop.