Thoughts of an Introvert
I feel that the whole world is only made for the loud people. For the cool ones. The successful ones. For the never-ending Networkers. Those who enter the room and see it as their stage. Applause applause.
And I was sadder than this dead paradise, the pink ice stars we walk on; holding hands and plastic high heels that flicker like my nail polish; the fire in your eyes that surrounds us.
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