It didn't occur to me until 10pm at night it was the anniversary. I had remembered the night before, made a note to do something nice and then the idea was pushed out of my head as soon as my day started.

I fell out of bed at 7:30 today. I raced out, got cigarettes, was back in time for my ride. I went in on my day off even though I had promised to take the day off because of the anniversary. I was only going to go in and help out at work for a few hours and then beat it- get back to my life, see my friends who are in good health and in poor whom I have neglected lately due to my art shows, projects and work.

I had a woman insult me when I was trying to serve her- cheap shot to the dignitary bone, straight thru to the heart, it pierced and shattered my whole world into millions of tiny shards. She was angry and got rude because my phone kept ringing, the people kept coming and she didn't like what was left in my book. More of "Sorry, I want to help you, but you must see that I am very busy… I am the only one here and I am trying to stay afloat…" Mothers who roll their eyes at me when I say my work is copy-written, laugh at me when I say my feelings are hurt, tell me I am at fault for their own selfish vanity. I take it all with a smile, save tears for behind stalls and disappoint my heart when people refuse to accept me, refuse to help me, the people I work with who don't seem to get it since I cant get them at all.

I still smile thru it all.

I have to. I am contracted. My smile's my only tattoo I wish to burn off.

All of it depresses me for odd reasons when I get home since I can't help but have a feel for whatever it is I had before- that dignity I seem to have that was taken when I started, when I became a number, when I became nothing more.

I repeat myself- I do it all over for another- I repeat myself and do it for another I repeat and repeat focus flash record. There are no photos of me thru November to December and my skin is changing colours.

Though they say I asked for it when I signed up because that's what its all about- in someway I know this and live for it. The reaction is what I am going for- the delight and pleasure from someone's else praise though no one praises me… instead I get pulled off and dragged thru and then I go home in empty rooms and fill the void with my lessons of acceptance since I desire to be a hero who accepts and doesn't question her fate.

I long for an early new year- I long for a day without my leg cramping on me, I long for a day that is empty so I can put myself in it so much I find my thoughts creeping to nightmare horror stories though I know I wont but the idea is pleasing. Without me the world would crumble and my heart would sink bellow my belt so I accept and go towards my January my sanctuary and love.

Accept my love as I accept your hate, your disgust and your lies.