28 january

Underneath there is a paper-thin barrier, a shrewd girl playing dress-up with lives and feelings and ideas, who has greased the paper doll so that the costumes slide off-- afraid the paper will rot, afraid that something will stick. I'm trying to isolate that girl, to feel every inch of her spine and find out what she looks like: to tell her: you are too many shades of stain from all this childs-play, who are you really under all those clothes?