What was it that made me this way? I was talking to my ex boyfriend and he asked me if I still drew. I'd forgotten that I used to draw. I was talented at it. Like I was at all the arts I suppose.... drawing, poetry, music.... at least I still write. And only when he brought it up again did it strike me - how dead I am now - how mechanical - how sober - how cold... like so much around me. My creativity has been so slowly smothered by this heartless world that I didn't even notice it dying. And now I'm left standing in the middle of a choking expanse of city - just a plain face to be networked by soulless bellies full of money. If I ever make it as a lawyer I will be dead. I won't be Ophelia anymore. Do you understand? I'd be one of them. The Unfeeling. Superficial Unfeeling. PLASTIC. A corporate mould of perfected plainness. I don't WANT to be like that for the sake of being normal. This is me: emotional, passionate, wild, untamed, full of pain and heart and insa...
The City Girl Made of Glass - The true story of a girl burning up under the glare of the bright lights of The City of London