I spend way too much time on the internet, browsing through (I lie, I obsess over) fashion blogs and online shops. I left-click and double-click tons and tons of images of clothes and put them into 'carts' and 'bags' and 'saved items' and watch as the total cost hit the roof and rise sky high. I never buy any of them. I can't afford to. Even if I could, I don't really want them. I just like to pretend that I'm going to buy them. Sometimes, I convince myself so entirely of this undertaking that I end up searching around my house for a measuring tape, winding the plastic tape around my breasts, my waist, and my hips and mentally taking note of the numbers.

I never buy anything. I'm saving for the future you see. I have this glorious and fanciful picture of what it would be. I like to imagine the kind of clothes I would wear in the future- I'll be in London, with my dog and my boyfriend. (Somehow, we'll be able to afford the air tickets and the rent and the transport fees and the school fees for further studies.) We'll all be dressed ever so stylishly. My dog will wear a cap and a tiny little winter coat when it snows. She's going to have so much fun. Everyone will adore her. And I'll force my boyfriend to wear blazers and jeans and covered shoes instead of t-shirts and shorts and slippers. And I'll always know what to wear for every single occasion. I'll always be exquisitely dressed.

I like to think that if I dress the part, I'll look the part and overtime, maybe, just maybe, I'll actually be the part. The part that is a little more beautiful, and self-confident, and healthy, and happy. The part that fits nicely into the deep vacuum of space between the dreary unsatisfying present and the longed-for fragmented past. The part that puts an end to this brainless surfing and wasting away of hours night after night. The part that finds conciliation and eventually, peace.

So I go on clicking and blinking and clicking some more, as if finding the perfect dress leads to the perfect resolution.