restless. [ pogue. blitz.

I'm in awe.

Parading around like birds, I'm just a feather and they are wild, bedazzled, art - grotesque, ugly art, but art all the same. Shit. I wanna punch them and rip them up and destroy them all, burn 'em, but I also can't stop staring. I don't think I ever will.

I feel like I'm in a dream, all monorail rides and fireworks, I'm in another world that evaporates any trace of death, of chaos, of cigarette smoke and dirt-trodden carpet, a world I know to be true. This is lies, so far from the truth I've almost forgotten what home was like.

Home is distant. Home is dead. 

I wonder if she stared, too.

I'm supposed to follow the Mayor around, ushered from one cabin to the next, one attraction to the other, flash - photo-shoot to my left, wow, there's more glitter on that girls face than I've ever seen in my life. I don't like to follow other people's instructions so I stray, caught up in this magically wicked place, until I find another crowd of people that look like me. 

Out of place.

"Pssst" I nudge at the tall guy next to me, tugging on his sleeve - I'm a child, I feel like one here. Lost.

"Got a cigarette?"