Poetic justice...You are tied to a pole....a man has your legs dangling over a little fire....and someone else is tickling your ears....the confusion makes your eyes sob and your mouth laugh....you are not you anymore...while the audience hoots, and throws a paper plane with BITCH screaming from it....another whispers, she deserves it....the witch...she made me chop off my fingers in disgust...i was but a budding writer....
Life's a fair game of troughs and hillocks...i learnt wave motion when my lanky professor danced across the classroom floor, enacting the up and down movement...and now i realise that the sea merely mirrors our existence...and the calm is just another prelude...while the pages are being filled up by that man up there, hidden between those bluish blobs....sniggering at the futility of all those rubies and diamonds that decorate those hapless human fingers...
what was going to hit me? would i become another gollum? live on for another 589 years...trying to capture the essence of my life? as i became even more wretched in my upper floor?
would i merely shrivel and die unloved, unknown rather despised and disgusting?
i fear anonymity........
I dont want to be just another woman....who is unconventional, complete, anonymous.....
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