ACT 1 | LUX

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i. "how can you ever heal anything with those clumsy hands of yours?" my mother asks, and i wonder if ruin only finds itself in the palms of those who are trying.

ii. dreams made of midsummer nights only last in hearts warm enough to make them bloom. mine has never been a home, not even for me. lonely, others say, but at least paper and ink has never made me bleed. you're only worth something if you're useful or dead. sometimes i don't know which of the two i wish for.

iii. even in the light, i feel lonely. "a prodigy," they proclaim, clad in white coats and wide smiles," you'll give the world so much." the only thing the world has given me is the inability to look in the mirror. my head is clouded and my reflection is shadowed with suppressed thoughts. i can see the storm before it begins and all it does is break my heart.

iv. recognizing emotions is not the same thing as experiencing them.

v. every tragedy starts with a smile. it has never mattered whether it's a real or fake one.

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