Check your friend lists for sated buffalo.

Add as desired.

I'm elated ( Read more... )

Pleasantly blue and studious.

It's all about perception, really.

Short, because I tire.

Tschemplik says I should meditate.

I've this thing for enormous animals and adjectives.

The only female vocalists I can tolerate* are Linda Perry, Grace Slick, Nina Simone, and VV (Alison Mosshart). And that Heather Headley chick, but only because Represent Cuba sounds fucking gorgeous. Oh, and Antje Duvekot, Donna and Vickie Simpson, Imogen Heap, and Sierra and Bianca Casady. I love those last two ( Read more... )

But I think that's selfish.

This appeals to my sense of awesome. [Haha, and a little heart wrenching, in that wry sort of way I really like ( Read more... )

Am I just another character straight out of Hemingway?

My one delight was to love and to be loved. But in this I did not keep the measure of mind to mind, which is the luminous line of friendship; but from the muddy concupiscence of the flesh and the hot imagination of puberty mists steamed up to becloud and darken my heart so that I could not distinguish the white light of love from the fog of lust ( Read more... )

Here's the thing, though - everyone has to conform to the same system of measurement or everything gets completely out of whack and no one can communicate. And I'm not talking about a simple conversion from meters to feet or something. I'm talking about totally disparate ways of interpreting the universe ( Read more... )

Uh, that's really upsetting. Thanks for letting me know.