31st of March, 2017

cut my hair and took a 3 hour nap in the woods

They made me go and talk to this counsellor woman who kept saying ‘But why Elizabeth, why do you think you withheld speech?’. I used to just say ‘I dunno’ til it was time to go home. But I did know. Sort of.
Okay. So. Paris Hilton isn’t an It Girl. Clara Bow was an It Girl. She was one of the biggest silent film stars ever. The Brooklyn Bonfire. I think we’re really similar. She’s a brunette. I’m a brunette. Her Dad was mentally impaired. My Dad is mentally impaired. She was really good at poker. I’m really good at poker. She married a cowboy. I don’t think I’m getting married but if I did it would probably be to a cowboy.
Anyway, basically she was the best film star, like, ever
But then the talkies started, and the films weren’t silent any more. And it would be fine, except when Clara actually had to speak, she just froze. She couldn’t stop looking at the microphones pushed at her face. She got mike fright. She retired at the age of 26 and never made another film ever again.
But even though Clara Bow couldn’t deal with talking in public, and Paris Hilton could probably talk for fucking hours about fucking anything, I reckon if Clara Bow met Paris Hilton, she’d punch her lights out.
But I don’t think the counsellor woman would have really understood that.

Ich will mich purpur färben
Rohes Fleisch auf meine Genitalien werfen
Krallen ausfahren, die Hülle fallen lassen
Das andere Ich zum Vorschein bringen

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