Actually spoke with Mike today in language lab. He has rounded eyebrows. *nod*
He's a pretty cool down-to earth guy. I'm very jealous of his ability to travel everywhar. For example, he is going to China in November to visit his girlfriend.
I wish Emmanuel could do that if I was in Hong Kong.
Correction lads and ladies that is now when I am in Hong Kong. I got accepted :D Now it's just paperwork and those kinds of formalities.
I hate this cough. I can't wait for it to go away so I can go back to the gym. :(
Haven't spoken to Emmanuel in two days. He called me back this morning and we spoke for a little. I thought he was mad at me but he says he wasn't. It was awkward; probably because he was sleepy. I let him sleep.
I think I'm starting to find myself.
Well, I don't really agree with the idea that you're finding yourself just because of the fact that you're making more friends.
That's like saying I am nothing without the right group of people around me. Undesirable thoughts.
But I am feeling happier since I've been making friends with the int'l studies people.
The guy who looks like a Persian Heath Ledger is named Trace and on closer inspection doesn't so much look like Heath Ledger as he does a kind of maybe Asian Heath Ledger with some kind of Jewish thrown in. He is German as well as Swiss and has a profound German nationalist brewing in there somewheres. Fond of black v-necks and jeans, like Emmanuel.
I can't even think about Emmanuel right now. I can't even think about him in a warm cuddly way, much less sexually or critically. I just... can't think of him at all without conjuring up these wounded feelings.
And about what, I don't know.
Maybe it's a profound weariness? Maybe I'm just sick of this shit.
Dreamed up a shrug made out of soft green wool. Perhaps it should be felted, or no, just with chunky grass-green yarn. It would have gathered puff sleeves with a princess collar and and curvy rounded shapes. Matching green enamel buttons. There should be little bobbles on it, maybe some border panels with curling shapes. Haa.
It's these kinds of thoughts that keep me sane, that keep me floating like a lily pad above all the mud. I've been meeting all kinds of wonderful people, and it's hard for me to think that I am anybody all that special.
Cookie is this amazing girl, and I feel a bit cowed in her presence. She is of the earth, and I am a whisper in the grass. She stands firm, her and all her youthful girth radiates warmth like a cliffside in the sun. I really like her. I feel stupid around her though.
Had debate with Ali about conforming to the system and what it meant to be educated. He said to stop comparing ourselves with others and making judgments on people based on our own standards. We argued because I told him he was wasting his time at the University if he wasn't showing up to tests in Chinese class, to which he responded he didn't care.
Maybe I should stop comparing myself to other people. I most certainly am. Sitting in I/ST 200 is like going to an intellectual beauty pageant in which Mike is the perennial Miss Universe and everyone else is a spinning twirling galaxy and I, I am a dust mote, I am a hydrogen atom dissolving into protons and electrons and back again. I am not even stable enough to remain whole at any one time.
I am the semblance of a whole. I want to fall apart at this table right now. My dignity, like a weak magnetic field, shakes me, tells me to pull it together, man. We've not weathered the worst of this storm.
In other words, I feel useless.
Yesterday met beautiful spirit named Annie while I was hanging with Dave at his usual place. Met a girl named Amanda who seemed very young and already had a daughter aged 3. Met tall person named Collin who was fun. Met even funner person named Matthew who was just a riot and I suspect gay.
Annie sang for us "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and made the whole of my day. She varnished my day with a color of sunshine, the color of her voice. She sang with such a classic and pure voice, as if Audrey Hepburn or Judy G. herself was singing to us, like a sparrow song.
But the heavy rain of insecurity and sorrow washed that happy color off my day and by the end of the night I was depressed and sullen yet again.
Will there be no permanent happiness for me? The more I delve into something, the more I find that I have accomplished nothing at all.
Why do I hate people so much? Was it because I was raised in loneliness, and now I shall flounder in it? LIFE LIFE LIFE you are si dur.
sonic youth- superstar
don't you remember you told me you loved me babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~~~
baby baby baby baby baby~~
lalala.
everytime he fucks it up i love him a little less. and one day it shall dwindle to nothing, and it will hurt less than shaving my legs to leave him. one day.
and yesterday i loved him so much it hurt.
and i will repeat myself everyday, like a mantra for independence. and it shall go on and on and on.
i'm hurting so bad right now. i don't know what to do.
fuck it fuck it fuck it, man.
i wonder if all relationships are like this. or if it's possible to be with somebody and just be chill and whatever about it all. not like completely anal about every fucking detail.
or if like rusting gears it always winds down to a cold brittleness. a glass etching held above the ground at great heights. and etc.
Wondering if I should get more into this blogging thing. I need to get a new camera, one that is small and portable, which will allow me to document things more easily, ie. take camwhore pictures wherever possible.
I lost 5 lbs. since that first Gogol concert. Am currently devising way to convince Mum that all I need to lose weight is more concerts and clubs. Unexpected leverage.
Currently feel like I was in a fight with a crowd. Like a whole crowd. Like a mass of arms and legs jumping and bumping together, crashing on my limbs. An old bearded man elbowed me in the crown yesterday during Gogol's spirited rendition of Harem in Tuscany, but it was all in good fun. I love that about these kinds of shows. You could fall on someone's breasts and they'd just shrug it off. YAAAY breasts.
Now must slake thirst with something, anything. Who's in town next, where else to go. Despite the obvious limp in my poor foot, and the aching in my arms and the small of my back, I am invigorated.
That's such a good word. Invigorate. To imbue with life. To make lively. To make alive.
I am made alive with this music. I am made alive, and I look forward to doing things. Yes yes yay.
AHHHH HELLO PEOPLES OF THE WORLD.
Everytime Emmanuel says something disparaging I love him just a little less. And yet everytime I see him and everytime he kisses my forehead my love for him is renewed. Yesterday he was very beautiful, and I was happy to be with him.
At first I believed he loved me more than I loved him. But the tables have turned.
This does not invigorate me.
i am so sick. :( can only hope to enjoy today. sorely wished i was in the best of form, but alas. feel fuckin' awful. what else can you ask for eh.
lallalalalalallaalallalalalallalala. i wrote a poem, but am loath to post it, as i am scared to shit of having my shit copied. oh oh plagiarism. people will stoop to no lows, i tell thee.
dadadadadadadadafd ddaaadaadadadadadadadadadaaaa da da.
so excited to see gogol again today. everything else is secondary.
hopefully emmanuel will not be asshole today. will sorely dampen spirits.
the grass is growing. how exhilerating and exciting, the study of the mysterious birth of things. no wonder children are so precious. what curious a thing is growth. oh oh oh.
calmez-vous calmez-vous. j'ai mal au coeur.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
j'ai mal au coeur. quelqu'un, aidez-moi. aidez-moi. mon coeur tombe quand il doit voler.
Everytime I try to talk about the barren wasteland that is my uterus, I feel like crying. But if I don't talk about it at all, it's ok. Typing it is ok, too. Somehow, it feels more like somebody else's problem.
Emmanuel says he doesn't care, that we can just adopt, that it's just temporary, the doctor said so. I hope so.
I've never really given it much thought, but I really did want to have a child of my own. The time, the pain, the frustration a couple goes through to have a child, it seemed so magical. If Emmanuel and I went through that it would bind us forever. We would have a child together.
It's so funny how we say words without realizing their power. Repeat it yourself again, slowly. Savor and appreciate, realize all the implications of that singular sentence.
We would have a child together.
I won't ever get to know what that's like.
I guess typing it is not okay, either.
In other news, I am writing my essay for Study Abroad and am having a time of it. It's only supposed to be a page long, so I am scrabbling for terse words, culling for brevity.
Also I am looking at clothes and shoes and plugs. I haven't bought anything at all! Just food, and it's been 20 dollars a frickin' day for the past few days. My friends are expensive. Mes amis sont tres cher.
Tomorrow I should like to go to a museum, perhaps, or to the Huntington Library. I'd like to have a nice day, doing something nice, eating somewhere nice. I feel well enough to go running tonight. I shall do so.
Gone are the days in which I vacillated for hours on end. I realized that instead of lying about for half an hour dreaming of being Chun Li, I could actually train to be Chun Li.
You all really don't know how much I'd like to be Chun Li, with her fecund thighs.
Fecundity is not a word that shall describe me, anymore. Lalalala.
i vacillate, mes amis. i vacillate.
i also hunger. am very hungry, atm. am wondering what i shall get for food. perhaps just a smoothie? or something perhaps more substantial, like a salad. om nom nom nom.
have been lately obsessed with Vagabond, the story of Miyamoto Musashi. :) the art is si beau, it makes me want to cry. For example, there was a closeup of a sandal that was so expertly rendered I wondered if he had simply xeroxed a photo. each and every fiber on that twine-woven sandal strap was expertly and vividly recreated. It was beaaauuuttifffulll. And his storytelling is quite divine.
in other news, if my period doesn't come today, i am infertile. it has been ten days. the depoprovera is making me sick. i feel horrid and tired all the time.
maybe i would like a salad. with some tomates.
will shortly be working on an essay for study abroad. i shall finish this before i luncheon.
in other news i think emmanuel has a job interview today. that is pleasing. hopefully he does well. i so sorely want him to do well. :(
hmmmm.. no time to do reading. i have to abandon the idea that i will have a social life and devote myself entirely to my work. i will perhaps have a piece of cheesecake when i go home, though. it's sitting there, waiting innocently. i want tomorrow to be over already, so that friday can come. that's my only day off now, truly and surely. all my days are crammed full of nonsense and business.
no time to do reading. i'm ashamed of myself. no more social life, no more social life. my head hurts immensely. i just want to go home and sleep. and eat. and sleep some more.
will have to go running, though. perhaps later at night, when i am not so wrapped up in the details of being alive?
Am trying to make some sense of my week.
Today did school, went to Rancho with Eden to visit the old folks. Encounter with Martin equal parts awkward, bitter, and funny, like biting into a malformed lime.
Kept falling asleep in class.
Had terrible nightmare last night about some guy who ambushed me in the all-too realistic setting of my bedroom. He had cried "SNIPER RIFLE" before sniper rifling me in the gut. Enraged by such a terrible dream death, I struggled to awaken as pain enveloped my belly and blood gushed from my mouth. Then I went back to sleep dreaming about elementary school and Kingdom Hearts antics. Lighthearted, epic fun. Woo.
Went to the doctor, as I am concerned about the fact that my crotch has not let forth its bloody deluge since... like... January.
Took pregnancy test, which came up negative. So I took a blood test and am taking depo provera in the hopes that it might induce a period. It will, if I'm ovulating.
If I don't get a period in ten days, it means that I am not ovulating.
Which means I'm infertile.
Which means I can't have kids.
The doctor explained that it wasn't some kind of death sentence: that just because I might be infertile now doesn't mean I won't be fertile at some point later. So that might account for why I don't care so much. Kids, whatever.
The blood test is to test for a couple things. Either I have a thyroid disorder or I have a tumor which is supressing my cycle and causing my amenorrhea (lack of menstruation).
Good news all around, eh.
i desire to be a seditious rapscallion.
just got out of class. my new favorite, kids. global politics, oh, it's like stepping onto a minefield of supressed anger and passion. Like you had pent up bunnies in hutches and fed them gray pellets of subpar public education for twelve years and now had let them out onto the fresh, green grass of a true public forum. Like someone had said: "The World And What Pisses You Off About It: Go."
Fantastic. Really educated people getting together and finally spouting off their heads. This young guy, named David, who looks a lot like Moby and checks the stocks on his black Macbook Pro, won't stop talking. I mean, it's cool, hey, this impassioned jeune, you know, but it's a bit disruptive. He's very idealistic, saying that the masses ought to rise up and come together, like a youth brigade tending to the hurts of the lesser peoples.
Well, wouldn't it be wonderful, but you'd have to take man and make him an angel. You'd have to have a million Bodhi trees under which we all must sit and fast, and there would be no more pain for anybody. It would be marvellous, but kids it doesn't work that way! Oh, David! Please understand, the party system as we know it won't work the way you want, and people have got their individual problems and that's the way it is, quite simply. Sad sad sad.
Will be seeing Emmanuel in Long Beach today. Looking forward to doing something real substantial today: what, I don't quite know, but hopefully it requires more than us lounging in my car at Rite-Aid like we normally do. Gosh that's old. I really want to stretch my legs out, cats.
dance dance dance hay!
am feeling v. down.
i'm taking a look at all these classes, and it feels as if i have burst my own bubble. i feel like, all along, i have pretended to be on the top of this hill, when really i am at the bottom of the mountain.
all along i have imagined that perhaps i am pretty damn smart. but kids there are a million others smarter and bolder and wonderfuller than i. it is a saddening thought.
what caaan you do.
i need to speak to dr. noble, but i don't really relish speaking to him. he makes me feel very stupid, as if i ought to know this stuff already. i feel quite lost. i wonder if it's not so much the sense of confusion and displacement as it is the confounding sense of stupidity in which i have steeped myself, like realizing i've peed my pants after a good guffaw.
kids what are we left with. sigh sigh sigh.
made spam musubis yesterday with emmanuel. good times.
song: heroin- the velvet underground
this song makes me feel real insignificant, as if the feelings i feel and the thoughts i think are just stinking rotten thoughts, real unimportant shit, you know? and... well. it leaves me speechless.
hey jesus! jesus guys hey.
i hope emmanuel is really real about smoking together, that would be ever so grand. bruce says you shouldn't have sex when you're on drugs, because it makes all sober sex afterwards pale in comparison.
man, talk about forbidden fruit.
soooooo.... i don't think this song is finished. it cuts off right at the end :(.
aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh.... yeah, it cuts off. i'll just download a new one from trusty bitttorrent.
i shoulda been born with these songs. i feel like my heartstrings have finally found the right notes to sing.
kids the day is not yet started, and yet all i want to do is dream and dream and sleep. i want school to start, so i can commence being so busy i don't eat, and don't sleep, and run all around and around and be lonely again, as usual.
i'm so lonely at school, kids, and i am there all the times. i really don't want to go through that again. sigh.
with hope and sadness maybe i shall dive into schoolwork so far i won't notice.
i wish emmanuel was closer. it's so hard to dedicate a whole day to seeing him. i wish i could do more things, some days. like join the newspaper. aahhhh high.
hats.
I have become obsessed with this hat. I finished one yesterday, and am now experimenting on something shimmery shiny and wonderful with this deep purple heathered satin sport yarn. Mmmm the name is as sumptuous as the yarn feels. :D I've gotten almost to the point of finishing, but I decided to rip out half of it tomorrow and start again with another pattern. I want it to be pretty! And shell stitch is very pretty indeed. I'm very tired. My eyes are caked with eyeliner and mascara and I need to wipe that shit off. Ugh. Tired guys.
I want to bottle this smell.
I've got this shirt from Emmanuel with me, and it smells all 100% him, all heady and fragrant like incense. MMmmmfdf.
I haven't slept at all. I'm writing an essay.
My brain is deteriorating, btw. Gone are the days when 6-8 page essays were the norm. Gone are the days when I could spin out a 4 page hand-written essay in less than 40 minutes.
alarming, how we disappoint ourselves over the course of a lifetime.
Goodness gracious it's only 4 pages. Come on, now.
Agghh. Cats are soft.
I am crocheting. I have done finally a granny square that actually looks like it ought to be a granny square. I tried a second one but it turned into a pentagon and so it lays now a curled mass of ripped out stitches on my floor, like vibrant turquoise pubes.
angels in the dust gone wrinkle it up gone wrinkle it up
i feel sad again. even as i'm typing this shit, it feels too tedious and terrible to go on with it.
it's just so stupid, and i feel i'm being whiny. so i won't even talk about it.
smoked hashish for the first time for reals yesterday. bruce is such an instigator. he wickedly made us take hit after hit. i think i did three or four, and minh was doing terribly at it, so he kept making her do even more just to catch up with me.
it was a terrible, harrowing experience. i thought i was going to die, ladies and gentlemen. there's no sensible way to describe it. it wasn't very poetic. wasn't very noble.
in short, if someone asked me to do it again at a party, i would say no. it put me in a place on the other side of reality. i don't ever want to see that place again until i die. really.
i feel emptied out, like a tin can with pebbles in.
aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh. no, it's not over yet. i don't want it to be over. i don't. but i don't think he understands. i don't think he wants to understand.
i think, most of all, he doesn't see why it's so bad. i see that he thinks i'm being fussy, i'm being silly, and i am taxing his patience.
i just don't see why anyone would want to be with someone who was so mean. and i want him to know that. because i love him, and it's the last thing i would want for him, to be so mean and not know it. because words count, even if he doesn't think so. when our relationship is just so, words are all we have. we don't have enough time and we have too much space for actions to have lasting effect. it's the words that build the bonds, it's the words that carry value.
warm touches fade to memory, but words are fuel to ignite the flame.
i love him. so much that it aches, but i feel sad when i'm with him. i feel sad when i talk to him, because every five minutes is another slight, another impatient insult, another exasperated moan. he hates every little thing now.
he makes me feel like i'm such a terrible person, and I don't know what to say or do about it except go, because i don't want to be where i'm not wanted.
the world is round, else we'd see the end of it. i never saw the end of this.
the jacarandas are blooming, so why is it si gloomie?
uhh. spent more money today.
dad asked how much taking missy to the vet was. i told him it cost 70 dollars, so he ended up giving me like 80 or so which is okay, considering it really cost me some 330 dollars.
sometimes, i'm such a good kid, i just hate myself.
anyway.
went to strip of vintage shops in long beach with the boyfriend, found some interesting things. a gift for the pute, a new wallet that was 10 dollars but is now 5 bucks :D and a dress that cost me a whopping 30 bucks. I KNOW, for a vintage dress, but it was cute.
thing is i have to redo the sleeves since they're tight, but that's easy even i can manage to redo that. me and my fat arms haha.
i also saw a satin varsity jacket like the one the bf has, but smaller, like a chick size one. wanted it so bad to match the boyfriend's, but it was 150 dollars.
the shop i went to is called immani's, it's really cute the clothes are adorable. but vintage being vintage, well, you know. the prices are si cher.
and there's still that dress in the tiki shop that's still waiting for me to lose 20 pounds. i just want a 24 inch waist......... 3 inches to go, piper.
also spent extravagant amount on stuff for my sore and aching feet since it seems i can't wear any shoes that are in any way cute because my toes will start screaming bloody murder. the boyfriend asked why girls buy shoes that they know will hurt them, and i replied that fifty percent of the time i'm blissfully unaware that they would cause any pain. alas. alas. and then the other fifty percent is willful ignorance.
for example, those old-lady t-strap mary janes i had started hurting an hour after i put them on. and i've had them for years! why why why.
anyway, enough about spending.
wanted to draw short comic about poe, him and snails.
i think csulb is infested with snails. honestly. something about the moisture from the top of the hill dripping down to the bottom, meaning more moist environments and more places for snails to be happy. i walked past this giant boulder sitting in a decorative patch of garden and there were at least 60 snails clinging to its underside. and walking past a secluded corner of the computer lab i saw three snails crossing a path, stalk eyes beseeching a safe way across. they're large and healthy there, those calstate sluggers.
they're so fragile, you know, snails. even in their inherent repulsiveness, how can such vulnerable creatures be alive? the slightest weight, the hintest hint of salt, the unassuming footfall of a footman, and they are toasted. and yet they seek paths, and cross roads, and eat people's cabbage. how life moves!
i've got a heart of lead.
anyway i just finished a pretty spectacular fanfic about superman and lex luthor getting it on. it's a really happy sunshiney family story about clark, lex, and their genetically engineered lovechild Kon aka Superboy.
That's not something some poor fanfic writer made up, actually. Superboy is actually a part of the DC Universe, like some bunch of professional writers came together, did a couple lines of the good ol' white and brite and shat this shit out. "Test tube baby created with Lex and Superman's DNA" my ass. It sounds like they worked it backwards. "Lex and Superman have lovechild, how do we make this feasible?????"
I have to send this to Cory, he would shit himself.
It's pretty sexy though.
why am i such a stickler for gay sex? what is it about the tenderness and the gay and the men and the penises (penii?) that get me all warm and fuzzy?
am wondering if i am really a gay man in woman's body, and wouldn't i like a thing to stick into other things.
i've a hollow in this tree.
watching bill o'reilly do antics on youtube. i hate when fundamentalists get together and spout shit. it's one of those cases where you talk so much shit you end up talking shit on yourself. pretty hilarious, and sad. and annoying. too much shouting.
sad sad sad. saaad.
money corrupts, buy a puppy.
so life has been equal parts boring and wonderful, like the birth of a calf in rural Tennessee.
sold 1135 dollars yesterday in facepaints. this is remarkable for several reasons:
a. i did probably over 60-70 facepaints. this means more than 60 kids had parents willing to shell out almost 20 dollars each for a slice of transient and washable happiness. and more glitter than they've ever known. what better metaphor is there to describe the intangibility of our desires than the facepaint? I see parents getting angry over how expensive water is in Disneyland, or how expensive are pickles. But those things are valuable in intrinsic ways. What the fuck does a facepaint give you except maybe fifteen minutes of pure childish glee and then four or five more hours of consciously and carefully trying to get your money's worth?
plastic surgery is probably the next least useful thing on the list for similar reasons.
b. i got paid a 21% cut of 1135 dollars, which, though being a paltry sum in comparison, means I made roughly 29 dollars per hour yesterday.
c. once you hit your first 1000, the company gives you a 100 dollar bonus.
d. my paycheck is going to be fat next week.
e. i'm guilty about being this happy about bullshit.
In other news, I can't get my life together.
Harmony Korine was on Indie 103.1 today, on Joe Escalante's morning show. They waxed poetic about various things, mostly centered around Korine's filmography and his fantastic life.
The interview reminded me of one of Bright Eye's albums in which Conor Oberst stages a radio interview and fucks with the host in his tremulous and neurotic way. I guess both Korine and Oberst have that spring-coil springtime fragility in common. That and crack cocaine.
Korine is at least more coherent than in his interview with David Letterman almost 10 years back, where he is so drugged up he can't even finish sentences.
But I'm glad I caught that interview this morning, it made my day. Definitely seeing Mister Lonely on May 9th.
Got drunk friday night with my favorite cousin and mon frere. Mon frere is already on his way to alcoholism, having previously magicked away all the wine bottles in our household, so he did okay. But me and mike kinda overdid it. we watched darjeeling limited, which is a fun and pretty movie to see drunk.
I threw up on my bed, which is not so fun and pretty. Spent the next two days managing that mess, which is for the most part taken care of.
Mum's in San Jose until tonight, so am funked out about how to manage the household until then.
I need to see Rocky Horror Picture Show. Someone remind me I have that on my desk.
I want a vanilla bean. I want to facepaint ice cream cones. I want things. I want to want something better than things.
Had hideous stomach flu.
The last time I went to the doctor was on January 30, 2008. There on their Reality Scales, I weighed 141.8 lbs.
Saturday, April 5th, 2008, I stepped on that mighty plate and came in at a less hefty but still hefty 136.4 lbs.
141.8
136.4
-------
5.4 lbs lost.
Hooh-Ray! What a feat for the lump.
3 cholos blew kisses at me today while I was at the atm. And me the racist was scared of being robbed. All they wanted to do was me. :[ I oughta be ashamed.
Thinking of writing things down, thinking of really doing them. Thinking of all the lists I have written and have never looked at again. I think I am a thinker, not really a doer. That doing is for others to do, and what I am for is for thinking.
Watched Mr. Magorium's Magical Emporium today at Tiffany's house. What a splendid movie. A bit short, but I guess when it's for kids these days you have to cut things short and put a bunch of sprinkles on it. It had Natalie Portman AND Dustin Hoffman, two things dear to me.
And the monkey. You know the :( monkey. Awwwwwwww monkey.
CLOSURE!
Tiff got into Soka University, which is a school she is v. excited about. :D I am glad for her. In a way she has become like my little sister, of whom I am very secretly protective and boastful. And a bit jealous. I guess I feel kind of like James, in that she is more talented than I am. Like a kind of Russian Doll thing.
Really want to make stuffed animals. Starting off with that treeling. Kind of want to really go to Michael's like now, but will probably end up going tomorrow. Seeing as I have important business to attend to. What time does Michael's open?
How big will the Treeling end up? If I give it to Mr. Durand, will he appreciates it?
I should have a wicker basket of stuffed animals on my dresser. How entertaining! And a red coat rack. And a wood floor. And a ceiling that is..... yellow!
How charming!
Comme c'est curieux comme c'est bizarre.
Martin?
MARTIN?
Lately when I have let my brain go it runs like my dog around the room.
I could have deep v's in any and every color. They are so charmant. Mais si cher.
asdlkfja;kdf
Emmanuel has been sick. It makes me very lonely as he has not had the energy or the stomach to deal with my pining and irascible sadness.
The more I love something the more I fear losing it.
The sad thing is he fell in love with me thinking I was so grown-up. Sorry sunshine, I am a small, needy kitten.