Not in the way that the beauty magazines recommend, but her actual self from a past life. After drinking a quart of Vodka and accidentally swallowing her crystals because she thought they were “sparkly purple” Klonopin she decided she needed to love herself, literally.
So, there’s this now: Anna is dating a spiritually-contacted male version of her former self, who she quite fancied while on a white sage drumming journey with her Shamanic guide.
“As soon as I saw his lean sinewy body and kilt I was down. I no longer wanted to do die. I was like, let’s go!” says Anna, staring amorously at no one in the chair next to her.
“I watched as Anna began to round first, then second base with a very large pillow,” said her Shaman, ostensibly perturbed, “I cannot get her to stop showing up to contact him.”
“He has a Scottish accent, walks with a limp, and went through a great deal, including war. The vintage kind,” says Anna, “So we talk history, instead of comic books like that other dumbass, and he can never leave me, because he is me, and also because he’s dead.”
Anna, whose boyfriend left her the day before her dog died and three days after she lost her job says her new dead boyfriend (who is her) has followed through on more in a few days than her last boyfriend had in a year.
While this could simply be a very productive nervous breakdown full of historically rigorous research, she seems to be fairing quite well considering her abhorrent luck in life.
Written by Jilly.
