A Head Full of Beauty

I'm on the train home and the woman opposite me is eating a homemade sandwich from white bread. My face is scrunched up in disgust and I keep giving her snide glances as if she were a filthy person dirtying a spotless carriage. I can't help it. I'm a nasty person. I think she's disgusting and I don't mind letting her know that. I'm so tense and angry that I want to stand up and smash my blackberry on the floor. I hate her because I can't eat a sandwich from white bread but I can still taste it and smell it so potently... oh so potently... I'm a bitch at work too, I ignore people, I wish I could be the kind of person that smiles and is cheerful and lovely to everyone. I'm not. I'm so wrapped up in my own little world, so self-conscious, so tense, so focused on the fabulous act I have to put on for the next 'person who matters'. If you don't matter, I don't care what you think of me, so you don't exist to me. I haven't got t...