Dancing With Ū.

Please hit me I'd love for this to be the end of the story But then, no one would ever read it— But then, nobody would believe me Anyway I was as depressed as I had ever been with an added element of motion sickness, met with an absolute inability to function or even coincide with what was societally expected of me, and disconnected from any sense of what I thought would be a motion towards freedom. Helpless, worthless, and even now, breathless, my stomach churned monstrously and my vision blurred with dizziness I couldn't offset with food or water—not that I would allow myself much of either, as I had been ejected from LVAC and, unwilling to gamble hadn't considered LA without the security of income. I had stepped back into Eōs with caution, only to be of course rattled about in every way I could—Travis still encouraged me, however the rest of the world was quickly caving in, and I felt much like a trapped rat in the narrow confines of a gym I felt paled in comparison to the other, and was somehow even more overrun with girls twice as thin as I would ever aspire to be—better simply based on privelege and genetics. But DJs married models—actors married models—and rappers, despite my disinterest in the like, married models—and though I had lost the battle with time, my 24 inch waist did measure up, even with the folds of loose skin that barred me from being beautiful at all, and kept me confined in my very own hell. I wasn't in the right place or time, it seemed, and as much as I wanted to avoid anything remnicent of Skrillex or Dillon Francis, it had simple become impossible. Everything hurt; my muscles ached and my head pounded with grief, as if I had lost another child of my own, not only because I had, but because even drifting further and further away from what was, I would always be reminded of him no matter what. One More Time I wasn't strong anymore—nothing motivated me, not even love, which I used to be filled with, but now seemed a hollow void in the bottom of my heart, creeping and eating slowly away at all that was left of my soul, until there were none. It seemed the whole of me was shrouded in darkness; more than a mood or a state of being but instead being itself—I felt more alike and at odds with Sonny than ever before, mot purposely but actually feeling more myself in all black than in anything, perhaps wishfully llre illusive but plainly out of sorts in my usual flurry of colors. My feelings, as they were, and I still had them were of a high frequency, but my body and mind itself of low bearing of my surroundings, so much so that I could barely breathe, even, without my chest caving in or mh heart pounding erratically—I could barely stand to be awake, and let my mind to drift, only to find it was anchored to this desert, like a ball and chain—I had indeed fallen in love with downtown L, and as such neglected to go back, fearing again that all Ioved would crumble and falter under this terrible curse, whatever it was. Still, surrounded by toxicity, I found myself becoming ill and weakened, however regaining my personal depth, having the ability to be alone for longer periods of time—something within me knew my placement to be an error, either or judgement or circumstance, but for fear of the white devil I wouldn't stray I to the beknownst boundaries of LA without a backfall. It wasn't fair, but it wasn't even either—I was playing with a fixed deck against the most skilled magicians of our time, my only weapon, words, as I had all but lost the music that went with it. Goddamn it, Dillon Francis!! I told you that thing was enchanted! Throw it away! NO! Oh, I get it— Travis Apple was a very strange man. He had a knack for making me laugh, and happened to bear a striking resemblance to Dillon Francis—not so much so that I couldn't separate the two, but enough that it was either thoroughly entertaining or extremely frustrating. His eyes were always blue, and he cut me more slack than I felt I deserved, but also seemed to be talking in a backwards kind of code. It just so happened to be that I was so devastatingly attracted to Dillon Francis, that I was perhaps somewhat attracted to him, too—however severely, and I kept a safe distance, which for whatever reason he really never seemed to mind, I was glad he was married, and happily so—it made it easy to stay far away,and never laugh too hard at his antics. Oh come on Oh Come on Oh come on I j-use W-w-w-wanted You're at-t-t-tentiom! Woah' You were my water And now you haunt me Stop It's just those eyes of yours They really drove me wild I really miss your smile It's been a little while But I still love you p God, kid, are you really that miserable? *nods*. I What is it? It's just sushi. I meant why? —apparently, I'm famous. Well, not yet (Eating sushi) Mmmm And at this rate… ‘God dammit.' He was, in fact, the master of illusion; I could only see what I wanted to see, besides what I needed to see, and I suppose all I wanted to actually see was the man that inspired me enough so that nothing really mattered at the end of the day, I just kept writing. It did bring me joy—there was something wild about my imagination to begin with, but, with a certain spark, Dillon had brought a lot more to it than I could have thought on my own. I think I need to go away, For a really long time; I can't be alone, without you I can't be alone without you Nowadays, It's okay to be sad, It's okay to be crazy But I don't feel that way I've been great, I just feel lost without you I just can't be alone, without you Out here on my own, Without you See, that ain't a girl; That's a demon You don't see But I see it (I see it) Not what I want, But I gotta believe it I think I gotta go away For a long, long time Maybe you're the right one Maybe it's the wrong life I don't care, I just want to live right But I'm bad at it Nowadays, It's okay to be sad, It's okay to be crazy But I don't feel that way I've been great, I just feel lost without you I think I need to go away, For a really long time; I can't be alone, without you I can't be alone without you FUCK THIS. I agree. No seriously—FUCK Dillon Francis! Yeah, I know. “Yeah, I know.” But do you remember WHY? Why?