Insomnia
Caroline Schnider
What a perfect beautiful and disgusting terrible and putrid day. Today’s the fashion show and I’ve still got nothing on the music department. I must ask someone else to cover up for me. A morning cigarette is just exactly what I need to cope with today. As usual, I haven’t been able to sleep lately. Night terrors? No, they’re for little kids with no ambitions, little kids with dreams, actually. I envy them purely. It’s already 9 am and I’m only downstairs, taking my morning coffee (I’ve added bourbon on it so I can feel better) and my 9:05 am cigarette, the cheerleader watches me again. I send her a smile, but she turns away drastically and goes to eat her meal. I feel like I’ve got a connection with that poor girl, she seems in despair always doing the same and probably more lonely than I, never with her family, she’s always walking around the hotel looking for something she won’t find, family.
My eggs arrive and I’m ready to eat them, but their touching the bread. They are touching! I’ve lost control of myself very few times in my life, I’ve learned to deal with the pressure and I can say that I am an excellent calmed person. But this is too much, there are few things I cannot stand in this world, and food touching is one of them. The waitress is scared of my glare, I stand up and tell her to go to hell, get me some new eggs that don’t bond with the bread and come back. She does it, I’m pleased but now I’m not in control, my table has been taken and I must take a new one, next to the cheerleader. Her blonde hair amuses me, it’s shiny yet you can tell it’s thin and weak, like her legs and smile. I try to eat looking as normal as possible, then again very few people notice me anymore; I’m nothing like I used to be.
Back upstairs I’m back to being me, the room is perfectly clean; the cleaning lady has done another perfect job. Fucking hell, the show will start in exactly 5 hours and I’m just sitting in my room wondering about my outfit, I should go downstairs and do my hair, make myself look the radiant person I can be and smoke my 10:45 cigarette already. An envelope comes under the door, I’ll open it because it’s got a perfectly white color, my name looks gorgeous in it and I’m sure anything that’s there, as long as it’s related to me, it’s amazing.
The show is about to begin, the hall is full and the models are all set. Those whores, they have nothing in their minds but the money I’m about to give them for this. Most of them want me in their beds, I dislike dykes; they’re disgusting and unable to maintain themselves in a dignified environment. I look around inside the make up room and I cannot seem to see the path that lead me here, all the shows, the clothing and the accessories were just a mere distraction to my main goal, then I’ve let that go and I’m right here, being paid for sewing outfits and putting them into anorexic models, setting standards for girls like the cheerleader, who’s probably dying to get in this show. Lucky for me, she won’t make it, I’ve put a restrain on underage girls in my show, they’re naïve and stupid, probably look up to me, not knowing how everything around me is everything I’ve always hated. I’d give in my life for them to not be like me, the least I need is that charge when I go to hell.
The show is about to begin and I get my 7:45 craving, I must go to the smokers section and end my misery. The lobby is full tonight, for some reason I need to sit in there and fill them with my precious smoke, that’s the only thing I’m open about sharing. Poor man next to me is trying to put make up on his arms; he’s cut too deep this time. The cheerleader walks up to us with an unsatisfied glare, she’s probably judging us, without knowing she’s the one who’s been left alone in this world, with us. She sits next to the fat man with the laptop, I’ve seen him in this hotel around 5 times now, and he’s always either on the phone or on his computer, once he even left his daughter alone at the New Year’s ball, because he got a phone call, from my company. I feel terrible for that man; he doesn’t know how hard he’s going to get it when his little girl grows older like the cheerleader, she’ll crave for attention starving herself, will turn into a tall beautiful portrayal of anorexia, and I will hire her for my fall collection, ignoring completely the fact that she’ll die because of me and my comments, but then again, I’ve never really cared much for those girls.
My eggs arrive and I’m ready to eat them, but their touching the bread. They are touching! I’ve lost control of myself very few times in my life, I’ve learned to deal with the pressure and I can say that I am an excellent calmed person. But this is too much, there are few things I cannot stand in this world, and food touching is one of them. The waitress is scared of my glare, I stand up and tell her to go to hell, get me some new eggs that don’t bond with the bread and come back. She does it, I’m pleased but now I’m not in control, my table has been taken and I must take a new one, next to the cheerleader. Her blonde hair amuses me, it’s shiny yet you can tell it’s thin and weak, like her legs and smile. I try to eat looking as normal as possible, then again very few people notice me anymore; I’m nothing like I used to be.
Back upstairs I’m back to being me, the room is perfectly clean; the cleaning lady has done another perfect job. Fucking hell, the show will start in exactly 5 hours and I’m just sitting in my room wondering about my outfit, I should go downstairs and do my hair, make myself look the radiant person I can be and smoke my 10:45 cigarette already. An envelope comes under the door, I’ll open it because it’s got a perfectly white color, my name looks gorgeous in it and I’m sure anything that’s there, as long as it’s related to me, it’s amazing.
The show is about to begin, the hall is full and the models are all set. Those whores, they have nothing in their minds but the money I’m about to give them for this. Most of them want me in their beds, I dislike dykes; they’re disgusting and unable to maintain themselves in a dignified environment. I look around inside the make up room and I cannot seem to see the path that lead me here, all the shows, the clothing and the accessories were just a mere distraction to my main goal, then I’ve let that go and I’m right here, being paid for sewing outfits and putting them into anorexic models, setting standards for girls like the cheerleader, who’s probably dying to get in this show. Lucky for me, she won’t make it, I’ve put a restrain on underage girls in my show, they’re naïve and stupid, probably look up to me, not knowing how everything around me is everything I’ve always hated. I’d give in my life for them to not be like me, the least I need is that charge when I go to hell.
The show is about to begin and I get my 7:45 craving, I must go to the smokers section and end my misery. The lobby is full tonight, for some reason I need to sit in there and fill them with my precious smoke, that’s the only thing I’m open about sharing. Poor man next to me is trying to put make up on his arms; he’s cut too deep this time. The cheerleader walks up to us with an unsatisfied glare, she’s probably judging us, without knowing she’s the one who’s been left alone in this world, with us. She sits next to the fat man with the laptop, I’ve seen him in this hotel around 5 times now, and he’s always either on the phone or on his computer, once he even left his daughter alone at the New Year’s ball, because he got a phone call, from my company. I feel terrible for that man; he doesn’t know how hard he’s going to get it when his little girl grows older like the cheerleader, she’ll crave for attention starving herself, will turn into a tall beautiful portrayal of anorexia, and I will hire her for my fall collection, ignoring completely the fact that she’ll die because of me and my comments, but then again, I’ve never really cared much for those girls.