Chaos?

The early evening sun casts sepia tone hues across the sky. A poisonous yellow haze settles over the tree line. She has learned that this signifies an ugly storm is brewing, perhaps disastrous. But her eyelids are heavy and it’s taxing to feign interest for more than 5 minutes. All this sadness has made her incredibly selfish, she’ll admit it. So focused on licking invisible wounds that she has little bandwidth or patience for anyone outside her head. She’s the unlikable protagonist in her own story, if you subscribe to the theory that we are the main characters in our own lives. She watched her some of her own de-center and disassociate for many years, so it’s hard to tell anymore.

She contemplates how her life has unfolded in such peculiar ways, ways she’s not sure she can be proud of. As she sits there, continuing to stoop below what everyone expected of her. For example, what led her to this exact moment of meditative destruction? As the sky grows more noxious outside her window, she smears lipstick haphazardly over the edges of her lips. One side red, the other, pink. A sloppy dual tone, if you will. It is not the mark of craziness. With the popularity of the Joker, it’s not “abnormal” to overdraw a red lip. It may instead be described as the mark of someone who is trying to appear crazy. However, she does not consider that her goal.

There is a certain freedom she feels as she paints the sides of her mouth scarlet and magenta. She feels as though she’s on the precipice of some great cleansing. Like how boiling water scalds the skin of bacteria. Like she is about to get to the heart of just what is so wrong. Then again, it may just be another Tuesday.