2003-10-07 @ 9:00 a.m.

...and they loved her 'cause she wrote what came to life when the lights were turned off in her room.

They loved her 'cause she lived through her alcoholic realities, and pill-induced slumbers, and the insecurities that plagued her.

And she loved them 'cause they loved her.

...and she hated the mess she was in, but she couldn't let them know, or else she wouldn't be pretty or interesting or talented in their eyes.

So she put up a front, a facade, and turned the lights off in her room. She pulled the curtains shut in her room. She shut and bolted her door.

She flipped a switch and she was dark, and that, in return, made her appealing.

She flipped it again, and she left that world of smoke and tears and whiny, incoherent rants. She turned the lights on in her room, and she couldn't let them see her this way.

So she shut her eyes, and she was dark.

Sleeping pills do the trick every time, 'cause I'm not one to sleep with the lights on.

I guess I'll just have to get used to it.


Listening to: 'Schindler's List' unfolding itself in the background.

<<before - after>>

The Weather Underground - 2008-11-12
- - 2008-05-06
She knows I can read. - 2008-05-06
William Jacobson - 2008-05-02
Lost Boys - 2008-04-30

everything © Claudia (2003-2008)