it happens here. compulsive disorder tai-tais who dont shave their armpits spells disgust and here's why i should be thankful for deodorants. getting my supply of acoustics from underground, minus the longhair. im convinced it's mexican dude's long lost brother coming to haunt me.
on a ohsofuckinghigh it grows on my face and shows on my sleeve until it is amazingly transparent and it reaches to the sky and touches base over and over and over. steps are lighter, muchos gracias says dearheart.
i keep writing entries in the head because outlets are much needed, but too bad the publish radio button is neither connected nor available for comment.
meeting of the soulsistas was great, like we didnt leave ngeeann. remains unchanged except for the clicketyclick of bloody high heels and kaching-ing of moolah (gets heavier). i will forever remain the underaged, that much i know. oh well, guess what, the underaged's growing up and out. soon.
a fucking tight month.
and new frontiers are needed because have you noticed; mainstream's going me with the frills and short dresses and fluffiness. super irritating.
people-watch without reservations. man, we were feeling rather careless and obscure. like a moving catalog, and we're picking items most suitable. what a riot. a much comfortable single and single collide to give you chaos. stop short, came to a halt.
yikes.
i want to do it again!
can. of course.
why do i feel like im waiting for it all to break or crumble.
forward seems so forever especially since.