all the roads go on and on. swamps and crickety sounds. sunscreen that makes you bronzed and a little wetfaced. i can't stop reading the death of the heart. i have pink-eye. and because i am magnetic and strong-boned, every time i leave the house i immediately run facefirst into glimmering bebicycled virgo children, bruised and shiny and absolutely evil allover.
i hate virgos. they pay careful fucking attention. and then they steal your game and parade it around the whole village. copycats, the lot. yes, yes, i play the lottery, mix tapes, and an assortment of films that you will have watched yourself in the last 24 hours since i last left the house and last ran smack into you, crocodile.
if i put the idea in your head then why are you breaking my heart
i found a job, i think, waiting tables at some warm tourist hole. i found a place, maybe, with a large kitchen and wide porch with a porch swing. my legs are covered in bruises, and i bike to the beach on a fixed gear. which is awesome. jumping into watering holes, fretting over my failed/budding internet friendship with the Past (and scienceprojects; hey shelby, write me back dummy), i had a birthday you missed in jacksonville florida, nathan writes with stories of junkies in the parisan catacombs, and i watch one movie a day with my relentlessly virgo friends. and eat acid. i love you internet and i missed you alot
yours, amanda L. at 2:11 PM [+]
| |
1. i'm trying Haloscan.
2. and i want to marry Blogger.
anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.