Saturday, January 24, 2004
Why is it that sometimes, in the midst of strangers, I can find so much more comfort and freedom to be whatever I want, or even so, if at all possible, to be myself?
Why is it that standing in a crowd of a million unrecognizable faces, I find a relief so heavy, served unto me on a silver platter?
Why is it that the unfamiliarity of the people around me only serves to stream my body in directions of understanding that this is the hour when my reservations cease?
Because in a world where nameless faces mean nothing more to me than messy splotches on a unfinished canvas, where inconspicuity enters my lungs and fills my body with each and every breath i take, no one sees me.
Yes, no one sees me.
sherry @ 10:14:00 pm
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