You are lost little girl. I feel for you. And I hate you.
You enter the joint with head held high, until your hair is covered in your 6pm scarf. The carpeted earth beneath is now laid waste with shed souls and your latest meal. No one gets you, for what is there to get?
Are you an empty shell or the most robust and well rounded human in existence? I saw a glimpse or two of what yur capable of. So fast removed from sight and back to the endless giggles and empty gaze.
Are you a psycho? A philanthropist? A prostitute?
Your hair changes with your mood and no one gets your style. You flash your tits...for attention? For love? Did Daddy never care? Did DADDY care too much?
You are barred now from the one place that could have supported your weird. Now where will you go? Will you disappear in the night, never to be seen again? Is this how weekends are spent in Kate's world? Does Kate have a world or is she everything else for everyone and then nothing at all...
I wonder.
I see myself in you darling; Complicated, vapid, addicted to that which only harms. Men, liquor, self. You just allow it more than others. I have great restraint when it comes to the world and you let it happen. I envy your impossible vulnerability. Where are you tonight? Were you a figment sent to teach us what it truly means to be a human being or are you a mess of a head case with disease and a broken heart?
I wonder if you're phased. Do you feel as us regulars do? Do you pity us in our perceived and tainted normalcy or do you long for something that resembles function. Were you fictitious? A wraith set upon the world to shock and wake the world asleep? I wonder.
See you around you filthy whore.
Friday, January 4, 2019
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