2003-06-21 21:44:35 (UTC)


I'm in fetal position in the corner of my bed when there
comes a tapping at my bedroom door (by the way, I'm Edgar
Allen Poe re-incarnated in the form of a suburban teenage
girl, which is the karmic result his self-destructive
lifestyle earned him). I ignore the knocking, assuming its
my mother demanding that I wash the dishes. I wait. More
persistent knocking. I try to ignore it longer, smiling
because I know she isn't going to go away and I might as
well open the door. I hear Rose's voice, "Demetra, it's ME!
I'm not you're mother trying to get you to do housework."
I finally unlock and open the door, remarking that she
should have called first.

Don't believe I'm falling for my own gimmick. I see the
image I project quite clearly and without illusion- typical
teenage agnst, locked in a dark room alone with obscenely
loud music, completely self-absorbed, acting indifferent to
everyone else even if they're supposedly the closest friend
I have, dressed entirely in thick black and clutching at my
iced coffee at 1pm. I'm a pretender.

Don't think I'm falling for your gimmick either.