My hair is beginning to defy gravity.

I wish I could be a bit more... delicate. You know, more refined. Fine strokes instead of bulky outlines. Ladylike and dainty and sweet, instead of strange eleven-year-old boy.

My boobs have gotten bigger.
I actually fit into my bras now.

My housemate Geoffrey has taken to calling me 'Spider' because of my hair.
I think the tangles might be getting a little out of hand.

      A decade ago, I never thought I would be, at twenty-three, on the verge of spontaneous combustion; woe is me! But I guess that it comes with the territory-- an ominous landscape of never-ending calamity. I need you to hear, I need you to see, but I have had all I can take and exploding seems like an imminent possibility to me ( Read more... )

      You have to ask yourself, see, at four o’clock in the morning, which is more important - to be laying out in great verbal tracts all the abstract and intellectual reasons WHY, to attempt to quanitify and lock down in communicable form what it is we do and why we do it, or to simply do and be and feel and live and not give a fuck about ( Read more... )

If you happen to see me on the street, could you please give me coins and a drink?
...Because people still need people who have money to give money for food. :}

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2YJ_VHm_Zg
41 seconds in, and already I creamed my pants.

<3

To live is to die.
Long live death!

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year...
Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.