have been living my life as a memory. speaking through the mouth of a girl who used to exist. /occasionally does exist.
contemplating recently the real impact of a few crucial events in my life, wondering why i let them have me in this way.
one of these events (through chance alone) handed me a blueprint to my undoing in the form of a book – read it in an afternoon at the cafe that i worked at. read as fast as i could (feigning intellectualism). missed the point.
i, a dumb little evil thing, will find myself. and in that finding, i am to be free.
