she sits. she stares. she looks at everyone, everything, anything. she can’t help but be like everything. she is self-contained, self-restrained, self-conscious. she is wary. she wants to let go, of her inhibitions, limitations, expectations. she wants. she needs. she fills the room, a girl among many. she whispers, why now, why me? she is a part of a cohesive whole. she looks about. she wonders. she realizes. she’s an artist, a realist, a pessimist, an intellectual, a relationship seeker, a sensitive soul. she is, she can, she will be anything. she is shaped by everything, but ruled by nothing. she is, me. she is, me. -remi friedmanfollow me on twitter: @truestargold
