On a woman dissatisfied with... 

🦋 Stream of Consciousness on a woman dissatisfied with her life, but doesn’t know what to do: 

Watching the fire in front of her, she feels warm but cold inside. 

So cold that there’s nothing she can do to make herself feel better. 

What’s life? She ponders. 

Touching her finger tip and looking at the moving, flashing fire. 

“I wanna be fire,” she murmurs to herself: if I could just burn like fire, at least I’ll feel much better alive. 

Yes, burn me, please. God damn you, make me so dissatisfied with my life. 

No, it’s not that. 

Why am I blaming you? 

No one should be responsible for my miserable life. Like I’m not existing. Flowing in the air. Even my eyeball is transparent. 

*

She gets up, walks to the mirror, and looks at herself. 

“I see no face,” she laments. 

Who am I? Nobody. 

But you shouldn’t overthink. No, you’re not overthinking. 

Stop that. 

Stop what? 

You’re not existing. Not at all. 

But this insignificant face is where you held and kissed; this unwanted mouth is where you put your tongue into. 

As she recalls this, she feels a burning sensation from the inside. 

A familiar sensation happens in such an unfamiliar situation. 

What’s this burning is all about, she wonders.