Girls Astray. [Complete]

That Girl: Lolita's entry

Published

When I was little I used to love playing with dolls. I had all sorts of dolls: china dolls with perfect curls and rosy cheeks and long lashes that bounced against their porcelain faces, I had baby dolls that had chubby plastic cheeks and chubby plastic legs, I had dolls with bibs and bottles and prams, I even had Barbie dolls- dolls with long blonde hair, tanned skin, long legs and even perfect pert plastic boobs.

Playing with these dolls filled my days. Until they didn't anymore. And the dolls were left in boxes, gathering dust, their perfect little doll faces never be looked at again.

You like dolls too. You like to look at dolls; pretty ones. Their long luscious hair, their big doe like eyes. You especially like dolls with long legs, plastic boobs and painted lips.

But once you've played with that doll you need a new one. That doll is old now, it's boring, you've seen everything there is to see about that doll. Although sometimes you like to turn them into puppets, if you keep them that is, which you often don't.

Puppet dolls are forced to dance, puppet dolls are made to smile, to stretch their legs, they don't choose their fate now. They're puppets for your pleasure.

I'd rather be left to rot than be a puppet doll.

Puppet dolls are shared, you laugh loudly at us, point at us, chuck us around the room like we are nothing- we were never a beloved toy to you- we were always a puppet.

But I'm not a puppet anymore, I can guarantee that.