All my life I’ve always felt like I’m the one who remembers everything and I get forgotten.

Today, this girl came to me while I was smoking in the steps of the dental clinic next to the 171 stop and she screamed at me: I didn’t know you smoked! Who was this chick? Well, she was my neighbor apparently. I don’t know why she remembered me or why she felt compelled to speak to me. For 15 years, I leave the apartment quietly, dressed in terrible clothes. I think I got angry at her once for opening the door for me and standing in my way, waiting to get attention.

I’ve never really been one into kids, but seeing her all grown up and as generic as every other lebanese girls, I see in her eyes that she isn’t happy. And she’s 15 now.

I can say that I’ve been lucky my whole life because people have always encouraged me to be myself… I am the way I am because, well, many people tried to stop me, but many people also encouraged me. I mainly grew up in a ditch full of love and acceptance, so my view of what is politically correct / normal is completely skewed. What I do, who I am, it’s a little late to change… what I do wrong, or how shocking I am is all accepted cause I am Isabelle.

Isabelle gets away with a lot because she’s Isabelle. Man, who is this person and when do I get to meet her?


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