pilfered raze she was the lead actress in a film everyone was watching. she hadn't learned her lines. she rewrote her dialogue the way she thought it should be, improvising, forcing everyone else to improvise, forcing the director to acknowledge what she'd done with a disclaimer rendered in white text on the screen, taking something studied and introducing some chaos, jolting it to life. even in the movie she was remaking to suit herself, she didn't fit. it was part of what made her interesting. she smoked from a cigarette holder, and found someone else who did the same but took deeper drags, almost impossibly deep, like he thought he might learn something from the smoke if he could hold it in his throat long enough, and you knew they'd be instant friends. except then she was words in a magazine and he was reading the beginning of her, trying to find the rest of her on page 115, and someone had beat him to it and ripped out the page for themselves, leaving him with the film he smoked in though he wasn't a smoker, and nothing more. 140907 what's it to you? who go blather from