She tore the hems from with out of her skin. Daunting and restless single key voices came from each open wound. Neither this nor that makes any sense. A curving sharp edge of the knife in her hand cuts the end of the thread. Wayward theatrics of bodily fluids- spore out conclusions of a worn out woman as she lies on the floor and stops moving. She’s done nothing. Nothing but help herself from dying. And the party just sees this girl on the floor. Bloodied in pain. They don’t know she is resting peacefully and not in any harms way. And she’s steady sitting up, leaning back on one arm, staring at them while they peer down at her. They don’t gasp, or help, or point, they just stare back the same stare at her. And somewhere inside herself the feeling of alienation dwelled sharper than when she was a child. And she knew. Alienation is a dark place. It’s somewhere where you don’t see anything. It haunts you in your sleep. It goes with you everywhere. There is nothing. Just you and the dirt. She goes at it steady, at her own pace. In time she will have something to unfold, because she analyzes everything. This may not take long to navigate, this novel. The direction may get, and be very sloppy, but we have to walk through the cracks of her past to figure out what is wrong, for her to live in the present and move forward towards the future. That is the most important thing here. We left off where she was writhing on the floor, people were staring, and alienation flooded in. She is aware and in-tune with this feeling. She knows it well. Though she has never known how to cope with it. She’s been aggressive. Right now she is limited to the facts of life and death. Because her intuition has given her this feeling that she was never suppose to have been born. It makes sense. Completely. If she has no feeling of life from God, and no life from the Earth, then where? Does she need a feeling of life from somewhere? Is mother not enough? No. And why not. Why does she need to feel life from somewhere? Alienation I guess is just a natural feeling. She delves into maybe focussing on the reason of why nothing matters. And suddenly peeks a hint of notion. “Wait,” she says to herself, “wait.” “Nothing Fucking Matters!” she says. She feels this light of darkness dissolving from her heart. “It’s okay.” She says. And you know, it is, because this is just the beginning to something new. If the Earth is to die, we are pointless, we are accidents. It makes sense. No one was meant to be here.



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