I'm writing nothing (unless you call this writing) as I'm trying to balance a plastic high-heeled boot that's green and has the corrugating fabric-felt texture as it would if a dainty foot was placed in there; the curvature was always very romantic to me; it reminds of Cinderella, which then reminds me that I can't wear high-heels, especially boots. I work snow boots like nobody's business though. Especially the puffy marshmallow type. I feel faint every time I think of driving "fo' real." There is nothing in me that honestly believes I'm capable of 60 mph on the highway and checking my mirrors every 8 seconds and merging without slowing down or using a left turn only lane or... You know. I fell asleep on the bathroom floor this morning. I awoke with my cheek uncomfortably pressed to the fake tiles a few minutes later. Basically, I'm wondering if I'm a little loopier than I might have thought. I love movies by the way. Discuss movies with me. Oh, and books. And art. And other things, too. Anything that comes to mind, just tell me. I enjoy writing these verisimilitude, faux-aesthate nonsense-things. And I like listening to what people have to say about them because, quite frankly, I really don't know what to make of them. Even with my disassociation problems. Oh, and music too.

Likes:
peeing like a man, festivals, theatre, art, music, film, using batteries as laser beams, the smell of play-doh, believing everything the magic eight ball tells me.

Dislikes:
when the candor of coolness leaves pillows, being mistaken for a girl at friendly's.