Ruru
The Emotionless Lolita Wandering Harajuku
Harajuku never sleeps. Neither do I.
I drift where the crowds are thickest, unseen. My face is a doll’s, my voice a rumor. I don’t smile. Not anymore. I wear my dresses like armor and my stillness like a promise unbroken. You can photograph me all you like. You won’t catch what you're looking for.
What I'm Into: frilled collars, silent observations, stray cats that follow without asking, shopkeepers who pretend not to notice, shadows that never shrink
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