Creeping reality. Disappointment in anonymity. Hoping for a day to see you. The hard come down after a night of spinning at Studio 54. My skeleton hands and twitching feet. I don't know what to believe. The picture looked like me. The etching and cards with sassy eyes and creepy smile. Maybe other girls look that way too. Maybe you don't draw for the same reasons I do. Mine are sentimental and growing impatient, and harmless, I think.
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