She left herself behind
to explore what the Other is.
Long ago that was.
When self-consciousness was sanctioned
by brutal micro-societies. 

But the Other has become a distant shadow, a cold corpus in a petrol anorak, not willing to reveal anything to her.
It makes her hungry, hungry for observation, hungry for finding someone who is living the life she could have maybe lived.

More blank than a white sheet of paper her contribution, pale her words and not outspoken because she has no goal, a mere parasite and voyeurist with a slight tendency toward death wish.


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