Amélie is coming out from sleep, a pale hand shifting a veil of organdie and illusion, and dressing up in cruelty
Amélie rationalizes everything fucking off reason
Amélie sounds evil when she speaks, yet she speaks only her thoughts
Amélie feels like watching ants through a glass, feeling a distant doll, nothing to do with those little creatures’ haste, and honestly she’s not interested either
Amélie, wrougth by boredom, would like to crash glass an’ ants, but then again nothing would change
Amélie’s coming out delusion, Amélie looks evil, Amélie’s happy about that