Once I squeezed out of my mom, I hit the ground running. Doctors tried to grab me, but my slippery wet baby body made it difficult. But, soon enough, not realizing I was still attached to the umbilical cord, slipped up and fell on my little, still developing head. I use the dent in my head to hold snacks and spare change. I'm a tad obsessive, but it's being treated with alcohol, marijuana, medication, and frequent conversation about what's wrong in my life. Obsessive, compulsive, and certainly disorderly. But everyone has destructive habits. I am a soul trapped in a mass of electrified quivering grey matter encased in bone at the top of an evolved monkey. And I exist. I really do. ...At least I think I do. In all of my experience, I've been given no reason to doubt my existence, but do I actually have reason to believe in it either? I shall ponder this fact, or belief, for time to come. Perhaps my existence will never prove itself to be true before it ceases. I also enjoy colours.

Likes
Freddy Mercury is why I live. But I also enjoy urban exploration, tattoos, mythology, sushi, super powers, photography, orchids, transcendentalism, tea, batman (after all I DO hail from Gotham), long walks with no particular destination, controversial/unsettling artandyism, uncut grass et al.

Favorite Music
Queen, Shiny Toy Guns, Muse, IAMX, AFI, Apocalyptica, Imogen Heap, Feist, Mika, Frou Frou, NIN, Moblie, Cocorosie, Nightwish, Within Temptation,Groove Coverage, Rob Zombie, Korn, Blind Guardian, Northern State.