This probably should be listed as a blog entry...but I would like to get an opinion on it
this novella is about girl who identities herlself as "moonprysim" and various street names. She never gives her name but does give her deadname (as she hated it)and, well
, still working on it.
The Best Damn Thing
One of Those Girls
I'm picturing my own room, the one that I never had.
The one with a sleigh-bed head and footboards with a vanity that takes up the entire wall. The spacious top lined with knick-knacks, pictures and make-up...ones that never dried out or were acquired by stealing. Brushes of different sizes and function, all siting before me.
The medium sized closet to hang clothes; ones bought by benevolent parents who cared what I wore and made sure that I was home before curfew or at least were happy that I was calling after being late.
Maybe a small computer...or an iPad; something to correspond with colleges or chat with a friend or two.
That's all a vision, it's a gumdrop and sugar-induced fantasy played out on television and in books that scream "life is going to be okay...everyone gets a happy ending!"
Mine would be happy if it ended.
That's been my mantra for three years now as my bedroom changes every other night.
Three years of living everywhere but nowhere.
What's the 'hip term'?
Yeah, sure...if one has money. Without money, you end up auctioning yourself.
It doesn't start that way. You start with freedom, complete freedom from caring about everything because the people who are supposed to care for you finally told you that you were no longer wanted.
The helling was yell.
And the shouting was too.
But when family doesn't accept it, what to do?
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