i am vurry curry happy and that is all that i can say.

she's not a tramp, her name is judy

This has been the best few days in a long time. for myself, it reclaims a confidence in existence, the reassurance that I'm going to be just fine. I'm looking forward to new things, new people, fuckin see ya dood. 

i think i'm losing my hearing, or maybe i just have a sinus infection. sometimes i worry that i am a hypochondriac. i keep finding things wrong with myself that are normal, and then next thing you know, i have a bug bite on a bruise and turns out it's leukemia. webMD has put me on the tracks son.

I had four cigarettes yesterday and two today. HA! this is easy.

you've always been a television actress!

i had a staring contest with myself today, in the sense that i wanted to see how long i could keep my eyes open without blinking, and I found it easier to not blink if you are focusing on something that isn't moving, nothing too distracting. crouching on the couch, i just stared into my mirror. i only got to about two minutes because my eyes were so dry, but fuck. there reached a point, where i felt myself panicking, and becoming overwrought with doubt. Every time I moved my eye, I couldn't tell if i was closing it, or just moving it. I started breathing really shallowly, and then my eye started twitching! I felt my nose start to flare, but fought to contain myself because I have come to realize how disarming it is. I'm not saying that I think I am synonymous with nose flaring, but more that it allows people to read me too easily, since they've learnt my tics, because I am always mad. 

as I'm really starting to feel like I'm going to lose it, my vision started going blurry. I felt like i was slowly unzipping my face. I felt transient in my skin, and became immediately aware how chapped my lips were. that's when you have to dart your tongue out of your mouth, when your lips have fused to themselves. I like how the body always closes things back up.

I can't believe I have become one of those people whose eye twitches when they are stressed out. When I think of eye twitches Jason Alexander fucking belly flops into my mind. I keep getting told that I'm anal, but I think I'm just stubborn. whatever. what can I even say that's not already been said. 

oh and um... SPRING BREAK!!!!!!

it's magic

little big world!! i'm going to hell.

i want to join a circus where humans and animal are friends! and then paint rainbows with non toxic markers and edible noodle art. i want to braid a cloud's hair and whisper sonnets into the fluffy ears of a fox, explain life to the trees and finally walk hand in hand, on hands, with a horse.

what?

Quand le monde est...

boom

i'm really looking forward to summer. i miss my bike, and will be in need of something spectacular to replace it. I'm thinking gold... whoood a thought.

i have a really disgusting bruise on my arm, like a fuckin hockey puck. wha happen! I can't stop writing everything down, and have started carrying this small manual around with me. It is a field guide to fox trapping, but I'm just using the margins. in about two weeks when it's full, that shits poppin in the mail to Mr. Pointanddeliver. point and deliver meaning pointing my finger in the phonebook and then mailing a packing which will then be deliverED to unhhh s-q-nobody. nothing makes sense aloud anymore.

i want a better relationship with an animal. oh gaaawd i want a puppy.

erry day now.

In an attempt to grasp some sort of consistency in my life, I will approach ummm yeah.

I saw a heard a car accident outside my window on Thursday. It sounded like when I knocked over my grandma's curio cabinet, except there were not bits of fake hair from porcelain dolls to muffle the explosion. This separation of noises carried the effect of going down a steep hill on your bike. My stomach sinks again at the thought.

Today has been a melancholy sort of ordeal, but the sun is on my back and there are smarmy tour groups in my face, adding to the delusion that I am not alone. Also- if I see one more god damn ShopKo backpack I'm going to fucking lose it. but uhhh doooooooood.

I'm in the middle of making a feather dress right now, but am flirting with frumpy in the idea that I will either look like I'm molting, or big bird's fucking slutty hoodrat. we'll see. I can't remember how I became like this.

This week:

1. headbands

2. taxes

3. guacamole

4. Schopenhauer

n. sweater.

I am off to a nice new venture. MEGALOMANIA!!!!

forrow your dreams, son.

if only I had an attention span.