Gravity Always Wins By Joe Hakim

There's this girl I know she's not a lover not even a friend if I'm honest about it, just a girl I know. She wants to be a glamour model so people take the piss out of her because she's had her tits enlarged and she says things like: I want to be the next Jordan, without any trace of irony. Now she is a bit of an airhead she talks shit and she's so shallow you could walk across her without getting your feet wet, but,

She's been off sick for a couple of weeks, she comes back for one night and she walks out again, for good this time. Someone in the staff room tells me that she took an overdose and that's the reason she was off sick and I know that she hates herself, because she's told me she's told everyone, she'll tell anyone who listens. Thinking about it I noticed something about her the look in her eye, that desperate look of a wounded animal, in a trap in a forest in a city.

Everyone in the staff room laughs about it because she talks shit, everyone knows she's full of shit, but, When you barely make enough money to feed yourself, yet you spend everything you earn transforming your body into something it isn't, a fucked-up notion of beauty that only exists in the pages of the tabloid magazines and on the screens of the prime-time TV channels, there's something wrong,

something terribly wrong, not just with her but with everyone. Laughing at the sick when we're all sick in our own way and no one seems to realise how crazy it all is. It doesn't matter what she is or what she does or what she believes because pain is real even if silicone implants aren't.

Copyright © Joe Hakim 2005

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