Monday, November 19, 2012


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.

The fleshy sack has been sprouting behind Shirelle’s ear ever since she was a little girl. She tucks all her bad feelings away in this pocket—shame, regret, depression—and there she lets them fester. Over the years they melted into a dreadful pus, which gradually filled the pouch. If you press on it, her heart hurts.

The sack has become quite noticeable lately. People look away when Shirelle pulls her hair back. Hats don’t sit on her head properly. A doctor recently suggested that she have it removed, but Shirelle refused. She certainly doesn’t want those horrible feelings to linger in her memory, or in the empty space between her ribs, but they are still a part of her. The sack serves an important purpose, and she is willing to let it consume her whole face, her whole head, her whole body if she has to.

Had a party on Saturday night that went until 4 a.m. Haven't done that in a while. I am a sleepy girl today. 

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