A large ribbon above a frilled blouse, a wired balerina style skirt. A ring gotten for a dollar, Hello Kitty stationary, and a gigantic stuffed teddy bear. A Lolita shoujo resembles a fool.
"Don't you have anything troubling you?"
"No."
"Any doubts?"
"Nothing really."
"If you come across something bad?"
"I cry."
You eat as much of Handsel and Grettel's gingerbread house as you please. The whole world exists just for you. That was the fake philosophy of the lolita circling round and round the skating rink with a vacant smile plastered opon her laughing face.

My teacher once said something in the midst of his Biology lecture:

"Life always begins from something round. If you think of the shape of an egg you will understand this. The inside, which has no power of resistance, is oriented within a sphere to escape the dangers of the outside world. It has been contrived that living creature's attack instinct decreases both physically and mentally when faced with a round shape. In short, more emblematically stated, there is nothing wrong with saying that a round shape is "cute." Let's consider the chicken. It's progression from not being able to protect itself from the outside world is egg, chick, and finally bird, correct? As for the chick, it tries to ensure its own bodily safety by becoming as round as it can, and that mimics the original round one in cuteness. And for humans as well, a baby, no matter what baby it may be, also has a cute, roundish shape. And when it comes down to it, the extinct Dodo bird, which is famous for being weeded out by natural law due to its inability to protect itself, also had a cute form, much like a stuffed animal in itself."

And I thought that lolitas try to abide by that rule as well. Their big ribbons are a mimicry of a butterfly. And so they adapt to stuffed animals, and go about living while pretending they are incompetent dolls. That is because it's the sole way of receiving protection from the cruelty of this world. If a detective's Burberry trenchcoat is armor for an easily hurt soul, then inside their decorative Jane Marpel fashion, Lolita are wrapping away cells made from glass. And that is the maiden's "hard-boiled-eggism." The skating ring they dance upon is a thin film of ice, the subtlty between truth and fiction. And the Lolita well know that beneath the ice lies the abominable surface of reality, and that when spring comes the ice will melt and fade away. But even still, with the cookoo clock with the broken fiddleheads poking through (only the second hand moves.; the hour and minute hands forever point to the same place), they cannot remove their skates.

If they repeatedly spin faster than time, a miracle's surely bound to occur. Now, waving the ensignia of the lilly high with no incorrigibility meant, let us devote ourselves to our skating if you will.