Part of life, in it's many shimmering facets, is of course, finding yourself. All of yourself, I suppose. Endless hipster films drag on about finding yourself. Being one with the inner lump of cogitation. And then? Once you know what the hell is ticking inside your skull? Most people end the story. Fin, and happy endings and kissing the herione, and all that. Finding true love, and becoming...becoming another servisable member of the community. Your story is over now. You're a figure.
My pages contain a post finding story. An after story story. And believe it or not, this is the first book. Because when you meet people, you aren't provided with the biography of them, to flick through before you meet again. It isn't like that, Sweetie. You're going to have to be a big clever kid, and work it the fuck out.
Yeah. Sorry. There's swearing too. Problem? And attitude. A fair amount of attitude. But don't worry, I'm going to really try and not make it too teenage. I WILL TRY.
I'm Violet. Hello