phoenix {rising} |
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Voyeuristic Agonies You see? I am ordinary. Ordinary and having intermittent panic attacks. I should take drugs, or be punk-rock, or something. I have had one song on loop for going on five hours now. Interestingly, it is a song that nobody has heard of, but that does not excuse me. If I tell you my heart has been opened wide A little-known musical has very little indie cred. Which matters little, because I am only marginally more indie than Britney Spears. I should have more interesting musical taste. I should have languid wrists and a tattoo and not be so fucking stiff. Marionette. All the things I meant to do tonight. Need to do. Email my sister, who asked me a valid personal question that I need to answer. Email my mother, who really just misses me. Email Todd, who went to great lengths to contact me. Do Hum reading. Do physics homework. Take shower. This is ridiculous. Why am I doing this? I am tired and this is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. And ordinary. Oh, look, it's wearing off. So he has pink hair and eccentric musical taste. So he—oh, wait there it comes again. No, I now say firmly to myself. Shut up. Get on with it. Chloë, who goes to school with him, says he's scary. What does that mean? Perhaps I'll change the song? Oh, God. How badly I want to be special. |
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