there I sit among bitter women, who on the surface look at least ten years older than me
when I enter their world of validity it reminds them about their appearance, their unvisible
chain that restrains them to the stereotype. They get reminded about their obsolete inside that's
lost itīs shine, their purity for a soap-opera-philosophy. They taunt me for the way I look, judge me
for my strength and pretend not to get irritated by my presence.
When I then shape important and intelligent sounds with my mouth, they get astonished and the situation
get unreasonable proportions....with their bitterness and jealousy, they can't do anything other than loathe.
Ó Copyright Anna sg 2003
