Biographing a Life

Crickets chirp in the distance, and she’s sitting in her room, waiting, thinking. Looking to the mirror, she smiles briefly, before picking up a needle and thread.

A plush.

She decides to craft a sushi roll, thinking about another time, special friends, memories of Texas and the love of sushi.

She smiles briefly, misunderstood, and overlooked, her imagination is her conscience.

Friends of various kinds creep out of the drawers, and cover every free inch of her room rejoicing in her creation.

She smiles, watching for a moment, as the creation takes up a life of its own.

Sitting behind smart glasses, she smirks, in the presence of her friends she is happy.


Her books smile at her, and in them she finds a mirror.

Placing her creation in its sacred place, she smiles at her collection of books, their magic invite her into another world away from squinting eyes and demanding hands. Her friends lead her into another place, through the mirror into magic.

During the day she is overlooked, always has been. Quiet and shy, she does not seem to fit in with the reality beneath her.

I remember her, when i met her, she was different. The artist, the visionary, she always lived and continues to live on another plane of existence. She lives on my plane of existence, where magic is around the corner.

She had a trust issue with the lesser reality surrounding her when i met her. She seemed unsure about the solidity of things, everything seems iridescent and made of empty when you’re living in a more solid reality than most people experience. I know she had to have grown up young, being as wise as she is.

But in those eyes that hide behind smart glasses, lies a wild power that knows magic, it happens when she allows herself to tap into her world and bring a piece of it back with her in memories. It shows that she has traveled in her eyes.

She never did drugs, there was no need to, living between two realities is enough to make you feel disoriented.

She often overlooks herself even, thinking she escapes into books to find magic, what she doesn’t know is that the magic is coming from within not the outside.

Though her hamster killed himself, little did she know this was orchestrated by a very sadistic goblin that lives down the street and kills people’s pets through suggestion.

She’s a reflection of what it means to be alive.



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