Scrapt II 

Would appreciate feedback!!

Re-invented the start, thinking how to combine and grow into level 2.

The artist is female. Her dress can only be described as firery, her face flame resistant, her tone omnipresent, her heart in many places, combing multiple emotions to appear as one. Full figured and fierce, not like a drag queen, what a drag queen wishes they were. More egotistical than Kanye, the difference is you don’t laugh, you weep, for the hope you could live up to the expection. Perhaps she is smoking a cigarette, perhaps that moment has past, like a girl from a dream, you’re not sure whether time is passing too slow or too quickly, regardless in her performance, you can become lost, for she burns time in a most extraordinary manner.

She appears concerned, the kind of look you might give if you’re trying to figure out if the pain I your head is a thought or a headache. Somewhere between these two things, she speaks.

“Wait, say something. Say anything. As long as you stay another moment. It would be worth it if only…”

She loses her words, or maybe another headache, like a memory stands in the way.

“Fine, if you won’t say it, it will. We fucked up, I fucked up. Everything was like that, but WE made it that way. Please remember, how I apologised and suffered. I would have done anything to wash out this bitter taste, this..feeling.

But this feeling is inside, not unlike how you were. But now, unlike you, this feeling never pulls out or releases. It lingers and grows to no end. A fire, that turns to rage that becomes hard. Unlike the last time, a stone, unlike you, passionate, aggressively so.”

She once more takes a step away from these words. As if the intensity is a game.

“It seems, just like you, a wall, I’m talking to and worse, a blank page and worse, nothing is written and worse, the book is unopened and the front cover untouched. Afraid to ever start, even with a date or title or to even have a pen handy. To say…anything.”

Homo, bi-polar and extension applaud.

Bi-pilar; “I almost believed what you said. It’s amazing what you can do, especially knowing you and how actually past all that.”

Artist; “I might actually have something to say, nothing so eloquent if I’m honest.”

Bi-polar; “but you figured it out. I mean you got out and you did something with your life, which is more than I can say for some.”

Extension lights a cigarette at that precise moment, there really couldn’t be any other time for it.

Artist; but I came home, it doesn’t feel like home when I’m there. And it should.

Homo looks flustered.

Artist; “is that what stopped you?”

Homo; “not really”

Artist; “did it work out with him in the end?”

Homo’s face says what he’s unable to say.

Artist; are you serious?

Homo pours himself a glass of wine.

Homo; “I love the bouquet”

Extension; “do you know about wine?”

Homo drinks slow and deep.

Extension; “f’real though, I wonder what it would be like to be one of those people. I mean shit. I’d love to understand the difference but it all tastes the same for me.”

Bi-polar; I think we should go to a wine tasting, there’s a festival in town next week.”

Artist; I’d go to that. Homo?

Homo; ” we could.”

Artist; ” I’m sure there’d be a bunch of cute guys,”

Homo;” those things are fag tasting”

Bi-polar; “that’s Actully a great idea. You’ll find a guy, we’ll learn about wine, we can find something cute for you to wear and we can organise your ward-drobe.”

Homo gets up, “I’d like to dance.”

Extension dances with him, neither of them are quite in each others rhythm, the two find themselves laughing as they figure it out.

Bi-polar and artist watch grinning.

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