She set down the mask. Candy. Sugar. Chocolate. Still posturing in her veins. There are people worth being she told herself. Plenty of heroes. None of which are for sale.
How lonely she thought people must be to opt for becoming one dimensional characters of marketing excrement. How lonely compared to she.
They could be anything they want to be and this is what they choose.
Not just tonight, but every day. Waiting on those costumes that won't arrive in time.
What haven't we been?
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