know what poor thing loved most about the big city?

she could lose herself.

and it wouldn't matter.

no one is ever what they seem, and they're always happy.

she loved that, more than anything.

no one looked down on her...

it was.... peaceful.

she was whatever she wanted.

she went there, just walked outside, closed her eyes, and she was gone.

and, that was the end.

why did people have to come and find her?

and drag her back to what she was?

that's not what she wanted.

it never was.

she just wanted to....

feel real. alive.

something other than anger. depression.

loneliness.

but that wasn't ever good enough for them.

well, screw them.

they better be happy now.

poor thing doesn't exist here anymore, and neither do i.

""{r.i.p. atari}