A letter to myself, I guess

   You were beautiful once, remember Mae? I think you were too little to really remember it. You were about six. After that everything went sour. You hurt yourself and you ate too much and look what you've created; a beautiful girl inside of this hiddious shell.
   If you really dig you can still find that little girl. The one who ran around in tank tops and didn't care what other people thought. She performed monoulouges to trees and sang to birds. No one had ever really hit her or hurt her yet. There are still parts of her inside of you, you've just got to work to find her.
   You have to find some self control and dicipline. Don't eat to please other people; starve to please yourself. After all, you're all that you have at the end of the day. When you go to bed at night, who's with you? Your script or sheet music. Not a boy or a friend. It's your career. And for your career, for your love, you've got to make a change. It's for the best.
   You can do this. I know you can.