Dollface – Next Step

By: Sarah Wolf

Date: 28th Jun 2021

We are not civilized.

We confuse civilized with well trained.

We do not behave because there is merit in doing so.

We behave because we fear what they shall do to us if we do not.

What motive does one have to behave if we do what is expected and punished despite?

none.

I stand in the shadow of a doorway, looking at the building “they” intend to “change the game” in. Game. As if anyone is playing. People walk about it, a few familiar faces. Faces I have intentions of making less familiar. Press vans everywhere, all surrounding the building like vultures to carrion, ready to pick it clean of any details they can. As if they can nip at the skins of the exterior and all of the mystery contained inside will spill out. They interview so called experts about the area, telling the history of the area, as if that matters. The neighborhood being old has nothing to do with what is coming. And what is coming is nothing compared to what is here. And what is here is me. Me who has done so much for so many so far, and has only just begun. Helping all of you to see that those who lord themselves over us all, are just a mere grasp away from being dragged down to a more suitable level.

I Didnít Choose To Be.

Yet here I am. The culmination of my experiences, my fights that ended in both victory and defeat. A mouth full of broken shards, slicing into my own gums and crashing into each other as if fighting for the right to be the most decayed and broken. Just like us all. Pitted against one another to prove our worth. My worth was decided long ago, and I was not consulted. I was informed. Through whispers beyond my hearing, through decisions that affected me but again did not include me, and through actions done to me, in my name, in my honor, but rarely for me. So Iíve taken my fate into my hands. Or what is left of them. So I will take these shattered metacarpus and I will make them work one more time. For me, but not only for me.

So Many Things, In My Head.

Why? How? So many questions. So. Many. Answers. But none of them will be easy to sift through. Because reasonably, my reasoning has been burnt to the ground. So while I am motivated, I am also lost as to the reasons why. I know I was born to handle the pain, to bear it for they who canít. But was I always meant to hand it out? To redistribute it amongst those I find worthy of receiving, or more so unworthy of existing without it? Am I a reward or a punishment? Do I push others forward with a knife to the back or do I drag them down into the crypt I rose from? I can answer none of these. But someone can.† Perhaps if they can help me find the answers they can help me find myself.

I am Lost

Trapped between the present and the future. Too many decisions to take. Stagnated by what I am and terrified of what I will become. What I must become. I do not have knowledge of how to traverse the distance. I assume that Iíll sit up in my freshly dug bed and have it all make sense. Like a map drawn from where I was born to where I shall die has been imbedded into my being and I simply must decipher my flesh to understand what sets in to flame and moves me onward. That is not here nor now nor was it ever then. I told myself that my place was for me to decide and no other. That I would not be relegated to some status of inconsequence. I have allowed myself to do what I despite most. Iíve lied. And to myself. My selÖ

Thinking All the time.†

Drives me crazy. Examination of indecipherable motivation. Magnification of some misplaced trust. Use all the big words I can and it still doesnít make me smart enough to not let it happens again. And again. To trust in them, those, is to willingly lay yourself at their feet where they keep their alter for sacrificial lambs. But I am not a lamb. No. Iíve been slaughtered. And now, It is my turn with the knife. It is my turn to choose to lay it down or twist it slow. It is my turn to blow a kiss or blow them away. And I do not know which path to take, but I know where the first step is. The first step is showing up, and showing you all what I am and what I shall make you. Not in my image, but a shattered version of your own. Ask meÖ

What is the next step?

The next step is the one I take on all of your fucking throats.