Monday, March 27, 2006


In the end we are all ghosts here. Screaming to be noticed in voices they never hear.
We become corporeal only when they want to take possession of us. Sometimes pleasant, sometimes distasteful, but almost always leaving us still empty inside. They only understand one way to fill us.
Why is it that men never seem to notice that we spend too much time invisible for our smiles to ever reach our eyes?

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