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Watching. Waiting.

“Masquerade paper faces on parade, masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you”* except I suspect the world has found me, and it’s staring hard, judging all the movements, all the steps, all the words, everything. Watching.

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A Fragment

I’m a fragment of my former self, where once I did so much alone, now I’m afraid to leave the apartment. It takes so much to just get on the train to go into Liverpool for my acting classes, it

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