i haven't decided yet as to where my life is going
i doubt i ever will
he tells me that my away messages are emo--i argue that The Beatles' "She came in through the bathroom window" is anything but
each time i lay out my hand to take in my prize, i should learn that i'm no good at card games
i have no idea what you'd call this, what to call this way in which i wake up bitter and go to sleep with raw lips
yeah, so this is my gossamer existence...half awake...not knowing, not caring...not concerned and at the same time gripping to everything in sheer panic of sliding down that slope again. When the fall comes i will wear black stockings and heels under a knee length tweed breasted coat and black leather gloves.