What would you know? Standing there glaring at me, with god knows what bullshit going through your stupid head. Sure whisper to your friend there, it's not like you have anything better to do. Yes my tights are laddered, and this dress has stains, and yes it came from a man, but what do you know? For all you know I could be a victim. a victim of crime and punishment, a victim of the bottomless pit we redeem as society. I am not as stupid as these red rags make me look, I have a degree, yeah bet you think I'm lying, three years studying bleeding photography, and what a pretty picture I am now. You will go places they told me, places yeah on the corner and under the gutter on a flashy Friday night. Education, it means nothing. Sure I have a degree but where has it gotten me? No jobs straight outta uni, and here I am back to square one. What I have learned though, it's not what you know; it's who you know. Some weeks I can be dined and shown off, from a good word from a past client. other's a quickie in some stingy two-star hotel, I suppose it's a bed really just be thankful, some clients want it weird places, but hey what would you know? Of course I don't enjoy it, most of the time. Sometimes there is a nice fella from time to time, gentle and those are the times I imagine that I'm not lonely, and for a night I pretend like he's the love of my life and then the morning comes and those pretend thoughts and feelings are flushed down the toilet with my vomit. So yeah, laugh it up and stare, I am surviving and what are you doing? Holding your twenty pound coffee in one hand and gawping at me like I am the freak. You don't care about me or my struggles, you just want something to talk about, something to turn your nose up. Well here I am, take a good hard luck because between you and me I don't think I am gonna last much longer.
Hiya!
Welcome to my bookish ramblings and creative writing.
