What I never wanted was this. No more words, no more aspirational archangel Hope, no more creativity, it left me... grew bored of me left me a diminished me minor but like a smashed windscreen chord, an imperfect cadence asks for redemption, I'm a perfect 5th, hated in 4-part harmony but perfect to me. Funny....What a thrill to be affiliated with contraband in musical form, to the peanut-crunching masses, the avatar demigods, impossible yet raised by the impossibly young mouthpieces, gagged by Gucci scarves, and squeezed into designer clothes like a lady once accepted her corset, the ugly sister crammed her toes into the slipper, thieves once slipped into the stocks, and this is right, this is nature, organised, and ordered, and I am unnatural? I just am me, once frustrated, now drowning in self-belief, once driven like a Rari, now I'm me+ desperation me+ disbelief in what's around, what I see, hear, touch, taste, smell, feel. I am now, unsure? How do I check I'm a living, working breathing woman? I fear I'm now what I always detested, the prophesy I hoped I dreamt, the portent I never wanted to become.