Rituals.

You know what I absolutely love? When you arch backwards to crack your back. And you can feel every one of your vertebra pop along your spine. Oi. You get such a rush and your knees go weak. It's glorious.

So, I've decided that I will: A) After years of searching, find my perfect match and spend the rest of my life thinking it's too good to be true and become even more neurotic. B) Never find a person who I really love, and thus settle for someone I am comfortable living/sleeping with. And while both those options sound a bit depressing (to you) and it means a very unsuccessful dating life (for me), I'm quite alright with both. I might even be better with the second one.... Anyway. Just saying that.

Every time I pack, I always come across the same conundrum: How the hell did I do this last time? I mean, I have the same number of boxes. And the amount of materials, while grown somewhat, is not excessively larger than the previous packing occasion. But somehow, every time, I can never seem to manage to pack as efficiently as the time before. What the hell?

I've recently discovered (or would that be "admitted") That I'm an Art Supply Junkie.

I just got to watch my favorite Tom and Jerry ever. It's the one where they run around mixing a bunch of chemicals that make them super strong. But then it wears off and the other one makes/drinks it. And then back and forth, etc., etc. I LOVE that one.

I get the hiccups all the time because I've forgotten to breathe steadily.

(because in four minutes, I can leave and go to Subway. Yum)

(this is rather amusing.)

I think I'll just keep posting every five minutes or so until I can leave to go eat. Lame (and weird), I know. But I've got nothing better to do.

Sometimes I can't picture my life any other way that just how it is now. And frankly, that's a little depressing.

A steady rhythm Inhale Exhale Smoke-filled lungs Inhale Exhale A glorious epitaph Such a wonder opens before me Coffers of splendor A myriad of voids and endless worlds A hooker under a street lamp A gangster in a bank A gambler in a casino And the dead man in jail This air of mystery This fog of complexity Death in sticks Suicide in packs Choice limited by your issues Freedom hampered By coughs and the sense of smell But there is this moment And there is this space Where there is just space And nothing matters Because nothing exists And you can ignore the tar in your lungs And the smell on your clothes And hands And hair You can ignore the frostbitten fingers The shaking limbs The futility of a lighter in the wind Because in that one moment It’s not about what you did Or’ve done It’s about that moment And about the feeling Of knowing nothing at all matters It is a Zen garden With rocks and sand And Coy swimming about in empty circles It is a forest of solitude Of green And brown Of br

The echo of a heel That click On the tile floor The sound of a sound she’d never heard before The looks of lust Of fascination and desire The boast of confidence As she wore her new skin She could be anyone, Someone You had already known She could be a bird A plane She could be super For all the good it would do you to stare Squinting And scrunching Your brow Furrowed in thought Furrowed in perplexity A pair of glasses cannot truly hide Nor a pair of heels Nor leather skirt And pleats And blouse And bra And dab of lipstick But you cannot find What you’re not looking for If all you see is the illusion Then all you will have is delusion True, to see is to believe But lies are believed more easily than truth And our eyes can lie Our senses Scent can be masking The light tone of honey and silk The look can fool the eye The sound can fool the ear The skin, the touch The taste Powers combined, The mind is tricked with this slight of A professional’s hand Because science is astounding And mag

it sounds right. And if you don't know me really, really well, you might even believe it. But don't. Because while it is close and guesses many of my behaviors, it's messes up many of the reasons. Plus, it is incredibly generalized and fits almost anyone (modified slightly by your color choices). I mean, how suprised are you that after picking "black" as my first color, I'm labeled a loner who just wants people to love her? Karina took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Suffering from the effects of those things which a..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

How Evil Are You? Take it because I told you to.