I was alone once and I liked it, but it was hard. I didn’t have anyone in my kingdom to rule, but that also meant that I had no one to usurp me.
The throne room was not something to be envied either, but it was mine. I had a window and I could show the world my secrets if I wanted.
Instead I’d conceal them so no one could know of their majesty but me.
It’s hard when you only have yourself, your thoughts, and the people that live in all of the spaces of your mind. They don’t really live in my mind, this I know. My brain is just a gateway. They actually are spread across the multiverse.
Sometimes I want the world to know about them so badly, the people from the gateway inside my mind, that I scream. I also find myself sowing up my lips and having my whisper die, like a pretty insect no one wants to catch because that’s all that it is in the end.
I see what passes now for reading. I see the same book where it’s ok to be emotionally and physically violated and give up your freewill to someone attractive and abusive.
What happened to Jane Eyre?
The women who were passionate and loved, but refused to be controlled, chained, physically and metaphorically, because it would be easier and they would get what they wanted?
Jane Eyre and her kind rejected the easy way because it was the wrong way.
I need Jane Eyre again.
Where have you gone, Veronica Mars? Buffy? Felicity?
Is it dark where you are? Can you can home?
The girls need you. The world needs you. I sure do.