Starting out fresh.
She’s isolated herself enough. Three weeks of no calls, texts or social media. Three weeks of drowning in books about serial killers and gore. Three weeks of listening to endless despairing songs on YouTube.
I guess she was just trying to cope up with something the best way she knew how.
She’s sitting on her desk, finishing up some presentation for her Masters class on Saturday. She zones out, again. Her colleagues says something to her but she doesn’t hear them. She stares back at them, smiles and nods, not having an inkling on what they were talking about. She wants to get away, she NEEDS to get away, but she doesn’t know how.
Needs a distraction. She’s so used to running but she can’t always run.
What she needed was someone to talk to, someone that just listened and absorbed everything (like a sponge maybe). Someone (or something) that gave comfortable silence. Not that she doesn’t have any friends, she actually has a large network. She writes sometimes, seeing it as an alternative realm to express herself freely, unashamed, naked and stripped to the core of her being with no fear of being condemned because of her pretensions. Her life is a sham.
Meet her here.
(Photo courtesy: Tumblr)
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