Once upon a time there was a lady.

I’d love to tell you a story, if only I knew one.

It keeps following me. Incessantly. 

This desire to explain, unfold pictures with words, talk. 

But what I have in mind is a telling with no beginning and no ending whatsoever.

Once upon a time before she was a lady she was just a girl. 

A girl who still lived with her parents in her old mossy little house in a townish, toy, toodles town. 

There were cats, lion lookalikes, wet poker faced ducks marching around ponds and prickly boys chasing footballs down the street. 

In that town there was a carnival. 

Each year when violets and primroses started popping out of the snow and grandma stopped forcing fur hats over her ears, people gathered in the squares to celebrate the arrival of spring. 

Some would dress up as blossoming bushes, blue birds, faires… a frill filled imitation of the hope that warmth can inspire. 

Out with the old, in with the new.

When I was a kid I used to lie a lot.

Lie about the incredible and the ordinary, mix them all together. 

I’d tell you the ice cream truck ate your brother while you were sleeping. Confuse the listener. 

By introducing ties to the factual I made you believe the unbelievable. It was a multiple choice reality that I lived in, and I was simply sharing all the options I thought were available.

My grandma used to tell me stories about the tiny village she grew up in and apparently there was plenty of magic going on around there, werewolves, witches, spells, curses by old women, aliens, goblins, ghosts

Pass me by, immobilize me, stunned

One evening, she told me a story about a wolf a man a wolf 

a man who kept annoying young girls in the streets

You see… this is one of the reasons why I’ve always felt a bit uncomfortable in that place.

Daddy used to take me walking down the streets, he said find your way back, big big world but you got it girl, find your way back don’t let this life drive you crazy but how am I supposed to find a way if I’m not sure of what is the back I know too little about my past and I have to build it up.

… I’m not feeling good right now, I got something stuck in my throat that can’t go up or down. 

It stays in the middle, IF YOU STOP YOU ARE LOST.

I have to build myself up build myself up build myself up maybe I’ll become a bodybuilder

Ahhh mirror mirror on the wall, what are you going to tell me today? Don’t tell me that I’m cute, I wanna be mind blowing.

Once upon a time there was a carnival and there was a girl

Expression express, confess your aspirations through fashion, my dear. My dearestt

Ah, Mary, how nice to see you here! 

Ah what a lovely scarf you are wearing. I am sorry but I must ask, who are you supposed to be?— a cat?

Ah of course now I see it! How elaborate! How original!

As she walked a cloud of dust formed around her from the amount of setting powder she pressed onto her face. A quiet pride warmed her heart. She was finally able to be who she wanted to be.

Ah, dearest. and you? Who are you supposed to be? All of them squinting at her, trembling in wonder.

A woman. I dressed up as a woman.

Oh, hahah, a woman. But dearest that is not a costume, dearest… you are a girl now but one day you’ll be a woman.

You’ll see. Ahahaaha.

We really have lost our touch for critique.

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time. There was a time that only happened once.

Once upon a time there was a story.

A girl.

Once upon a time. She keeps going back to that time

Once upon a time

But now there’s none

Once upon a time.

She knows the story but sometimes she is afraid that it’s the wrong one.

Once upon a time.

Sometimes I think of Shaharazade, you know, the story behind A thousand and one nights. 

A thousand and one nights nights nights nights