let your hair grow

swallow your long throat into knots

and hang yourself

on the rafters in your head

chucked clothes out for closet for the 1298701348913741 time.

aiming for a 30% capacity, so i  can have a spanking new  2010.

so many mistakes… must not fall prey to

yeah i wear my pjs to work nowadays

t.v.s.

from the trailer the movie seems surprisingly true to the book…

i need to watch this

“THIS IS SO STUPID!”

so you want to be famous?

Step 1#: Kill your landlady.

feels like…

matthew stone

no i don’t think the original artist intended for it to snow.

son of a mother duck.

i am broke once again. will be broker. soon.

shaking off that feeling again

Time has that marvelous knack
of dimming every memory we hold so precious
into a faded muddle of colours where
peoples’ faces are smudged beyond recognition
and what’s left are dust bunny shells holding
together strings of things called Emotion
-or rather “What I felt When we first Kissed”
or “When I fell into a drain that afternoon”
and the places are always a cacophony of
lines shape and shadow melding into each other
so much so that you

forget.

But the passage of time is always defied,
isn’t it?