The Town // 17.1.26

without the armour they zneek in. the talk. the gozzip. judgementz&rumourz. i hear the "i juzt dont like her" & "the queen of leading men on" lyke my victimz (men that iz) have no mind of their own. no wantz or dezire for conversation alone. i hear the "no zurprise there" when a relationzhip haz failed. &the one who hurt the mozt; "now she’z ur problem" tellin my partner when we firzt got together again. that one zneeks in too.

nvr have i ztuck around for anythin in itz comparizon. i have left. people, plazes and thingz. but i ztay.

itz the/my 16-yrz old attitude i applaud of thiz-iz-my-fucking-town-too. see how i dont run. don’t hide. but the oppozite. itz the almozt masochistic addiction to watchin az change, painfully zlow, unfoldz. itz the win i see at the end. cauze the small-town-culture. the talk. will die. az it iz with everythin not big enough to zurvive on itz own. i ztay cauze i imagine hearin it. the growin of an awesome wave way out there. firzt itz barely there. lyke a consistent odd thing of a zound u hardly notice. zilent televizion snow. then a slow growl. growin. until itzall u hear. i imagine how it will zound when it finally crackz in itz own overflow. iz gonna be fabulouz.

im gonna be ztuck there for a while. probably. in a total anti climax ive never felt before. lyke a revengeful bullied child finally managed to trap her bulliez inztead. ill rage. ill weep. then move on. hopefully. learnin the same lezzon again. that freedom iz a pickle. zame iz izolation. in the end; juzt an idea we all believe in. &with it. both equally there. eternal.