would you read a book thats starts like this?
Who am I? she asks. Like a fool. ‘Who am I?’ everyone asks when they come here, what a boring question. Like starting a sunday morning with a cup of black coffee, or vacuuming the house. I yearn for heroin, the dust. That also makes me fool, right along with them. The snow that is shades of grey. Why don’t we vacuum the snow too? Why is it that dust is rude and unwelcome? Why is dust an intruder while the snow is a blessing? Perhaps because the snow is white, reminding souls of what they lack, innocence. Perhaps it allows them to pretend they are good-hearted like angels, like babies wrapped in shrouds. Snow lies to them, people think snow is kind. What fools! Snow is a liar, so it's comfortable but what about the dust? The dust is blunt, it's honest, it's kind. It is a mirror that shows people what their soul or even what their lungs look like. It reminds them of the cruelties they create and then cry about. Why can we not pretend it is fairy dust, not regular dust? Because if you add the word “fairy” infront of the word it becomes wondrous and magical. However, fairy dust exists in fantasy, whereas dust exists in the real world. The real world is the product of humans, the fools so, of course, any product of the real world will suck. Like dust. ‘Who am I?’ And I think, what answer would satisfy them? ‘You’re special’ I could say. What a futile lie it would be! Special! What a laugh!