Heatwaves in your pants.

When I was a little girl, I would say to my mom "Ma the thing where they say 'no man is an island' thing, it's bull. I so can be my own island. All I need is a yatch."

Since then I have stood by my idea of living in a yatch in the middle of the Atlantic idea, and I will stand by it until the day I die. I wasn't raised to hold in too much input about other people. I can only tolerate a few so the rest are just goddamn annoying.

It's the strings, you know. They have the domino effect on my mind. Everything snowballs in. The more I know, the more I care, the more they suffocate me.

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If I don't call you by your first name, then I don't know you. We may have met before but that doesn't mean I'll remember you. I'm like heatwaves on a Russian winter when it comes to faces. I forget faces.

Honest to God all of you are the same to me, just as I should be the same as everyone else to you. It's just a matter of your level of appeal, it has nothing to do with my ego.
If you're interesting, people'll remember you. Simple law of the universe.

And I'm not friendly. I'm just awkward.

phantom limb.

Bascially I've been busy quitting the bad things that made my life fun.

I've quit shopping. I've quit stalking (insert appropriate boy's name here). I've quit (insert inappropriate social habit here). I've quit (insert famous fast food chain here). I've quit (insert a bunch of other stuff that I'm not allowed to write down here too).

Now I walk around with a weird ass deprived expression and crying out in pain from abdominal muscle ache. The cosmic universe is laughing its ass off.

But hah I've used up a whole tropical rainforest's worth of tissue for my cold. Your tropical rainforest.

Bitch I hate being good.


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Good God I love this song. People hate it when I play it on the car radio on road trips, I don't understand why. It's a good song.