You're weightless, semi-erotic.

One and a half years back, I thought I'd know who I would be now, that is, exactly the same person. Only better. I don't know what fucking unfortunate mishap happened and how I ended up as I am now, I only want to know how to go back. I'm unhappy with everything I do because I know that this isn't how it goes. I wouldn't say half the things I do everyday. I've crossed the line from being conscious of the need to be socially acceptable to some sort of pansy crowd pleaser. Since when have I ever given a fuck? Now I'm looking over my shoulder all the time just to come across as Normal and honestly I'm sick of it all.

I just woke up from an extended nap and am eating froot loops in bed, reading short stories by Edgar Allen Poe that used to terrify me as a child while listening to PJ Harvey's whispered falsettos in the background. Geniuses, both of them.

I am completely obsessed with Krysten Ritter, I adore her is beautiful and talented and sometimes I wish I were her. She will be my reason to sit through '27 dresses'.(which because of her I cannot wait to see) Pictures don't do her justice, you can catch her on Gilmore Girls season 7 and Veronica Mars season 2. And since I am plugging her so damned shamelessly, here is her myspace so you can listen to her gorgeous songs. Ugh, now I'm in two minds about posting this, I want to keep her hidden and all to myself because I am Selfish. Mine ah, my fantasy gal pal, get your own mmkay.(I am obsessed with the red minidress she wore on the first episode she appeared in GG, I WANT IT.)

My blogger profile can be viewed now fyi, its never been accessible before, so don't laugh at my Zero views.

“You know what's wrong with you, Miss...Whoever You Are? You're a chicken. You've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, 'Okay, life's a fact. People do fall in love. People do belong to each other.' Because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing. And you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Baby, you're already in that cage and built it yourself. And it's not bound in the west by Tulip, Texas or in the east by Somali land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”