HOME | DD

Description
"Once upon a time, in a land not too far away lived a little girl whose story had just become another blatantly American cliche.  If I told you her name, it wouldn't matter.  You don't really care anyways, do you?  You just want to hear another tale of someone else's trauma to make your life seem like it doesn't suck quite as much.  How thoughtful of you.  Don't worry though.  I'll tell you all about it.

She lived in a quaint little house in American suburbia.  Mommy woke up every day and went to her adequate-paying job downtown.  Daddy was never there.  It was just one of those things you never question.  She always knew she had a daddy, but it didn't really matter anyways.  She went to school and she did her work.  Mommy said she was proud of her because she made all A's, using cheap, overabundant toys for compensation.  The only reason she made all A's was because she had nothing better to do.  Mommy probably never even noticed her complete lack of friendships.  But what do friends matter when elementary school grades are at stake?  Life trudged on day by week, month by year, emptier into oblivion.  What are genius minds when they've nothing to prove?  The doctors always said she was smart for her age, but what did that matter?  She was still no different from any other human with basic human needs, but no one seemed to care or notice.  Thing by menial thing added up, more time passed and somehow it landed her here..."

The room was dimly lit, inhabited only by the doctor and the tape recorder, the girl and her insanity.  You couldn't make out her face if you tried.  There were just too many layers of darkness, both figurative and literal, to look through.  Having been diagnosed as schizotypal, despite this only being a label for a doctor to throw onto the mind, the girl had slowly succomed to and become what everyone told her she was.  Despite this, she always held true to her one belief: nothing.

"NOTHING IS NOTHING!" she exclaimed freely, returning from her third person haven, her longish dark hair falling into her face as she leaned toward the uninterested doctor with a slight gleam of crazy in her eye.  "...and nothing," she said leaning back again into her chair, slowly regaining a bit of calm in her voice, "is the most important thing in my life as a grainy, pixelated, slowly disentigrating little girl."

Outside, everyone else continued to live their everyday, mundane lives never thinking about all we've become desensitized to.  It's normality that makes us like this, because it doesn't matter.  Sooner or later, the pain is supposed to go away, right?  It's just another day in suburbia...

Description
"Once upon a time, in a land not too far away lived a little girl whose story had just become another blatantly American cliche.  If I told you her name, it wouldn't matter.  You don't really care anyways, do you?  You just want to hear another tale of someone else's trauma to make your life seem like it doesn't suck quite as much.  How thoughtful of you.  Don't worry though.  I'll tell you all about it.

She lived in a quaint little house in American suburbia.  Mommy woke up every day and went to her adequate-paying job downtown.  Daddy was never there.  It was just one of those things you never question.  She always knew she had a daddy, but it didn't really matter anyways.  She went to school and she did her work.  Mommy said she was proud of her because she made all A's, using cheap, overabundant toys for compensation.  The only reason she made all A's was because she had nothing better to do.  Mommy probably never even noticed her complete lack of friendships.  But what do friends matter when elementary school grades are at stake?  Life trudged on day by week, month by year, emptier into oblivion.  What are genius minds when they've nothing to prove?  The doctors always said she was smart for her age, but what did that matter?  She was still no different from any other human with basic human needs, but no one seemed to care or notice.  Thing by menial thing added up, more time passed and somehow it landed her here..."

The room was dimly lit, inhabited only by the doctor and the tape recorder, the girl and her insanity.  You couldn't make out her face if you tried.  There were just too many layers of darkness, both figurative and literal, to look through.  Having been diagnosed as schizotypal, despite this only being a label for a doctor to throw onto the mind, the girl had slowly succomed to and become what everyone told her she was.  Despite this, she always held true to her one belief: nothing.

"NOTHING IS NOTHING!" she exclaimed freely, returning from her third person haven, her longish dark hair falling into her face as she leaned toward the uninterested doctor with a slight gleam of crazy in her eye.  "...and nothing," she said leaning back again into her chair, slowly regaining a bit of calm in her voice, "is the most important thing in my life as a grainy, pixelated, slowly disentigrating little girl."

Outside, everyone else continued to live their everyday, mundane lives never thinking about all we've become desensitized to.  It's normality that makes us like this, because it doesn't matter.  Sooner or later, the pain is supposed to go away, right?  It's just another day in suburbia...