/juxtapotato

I hate it how rainy days make me all writery. Sorry Proust. I grabbed a pad and my World Cup pen and sat on the bed. The rain went lashing. I bought cream from the store downstairs. Stirring. Then everything turned into one scabby cliche. And I hate it. I listened to some Y-Control (loving "Shot Down," as in: she'ssofly!) and DMB (haha).

Maybe I should stop cracking my knuckles altogether and vegetate.

Somebody told me that I sound like Margaret Atwood. Read "You Begin" by her, then read my "Waterfalling." SHIT. Creepy. I swear I haven't read that one. Now I want to burn mine. Something highly ceremonial. Nooo :(

7:19 PM | 3 comment/s