i look at life around me and decide i must have much going on...

ever since i locked my diary, i've barely used it. not because it's locked, just because i'm so freaking busy with life- which is what i wanted- which is why i was deleting my onlineperson. and this is what is left-

ever since i talked to my darling about how i want to stay monogomous with her, i've seen her like twice. which is to say that i've not seen her enough... which is not what i wanted. she is why this change is all taking place. i hope that she doesn't think i am not wondering about her all of the time, because most of the time, or at least 50 times or more a day, i think of her.

DIFFERENT NOTE:

new year's.

pretty dress is so so so so so in the making.

i need a mask like the phantom of the opera.

i need make-up like cindy sherman.

i need pin-up girl hair.

we shall see.

apartment on march 1. deadline.

john ward will be moving in with me. this better be big, because we all know it's gonna be flashy.

at present, i am working on a creative story alskdj owif a;hga;orh ;ro fhin my journal and mostly on random bits of paper i find around and then stuff in my purse, which gets thrown around in the back of my car, which then goes out of control and gets wrecked in muddy places, but not really.

hence, this entry being one of reality and boredom and it's just me making sure you are still breathing.

the picture of my tit is funny today to me for some reason. i need to find another picture. i need to take about five million pictures.

for now: darling, you are brilliance, you are silver and the aquaintence which held my hand during the departure, they told me that you are a creature. baby, i'm your's. what do you see? can you honestly say you don't see me? and what about that night in brussels? where were you when i wanted to be queen? flitter flitter fly by me and make me squeem like a worm in the deep warm worm holes in the ground. filling full with water drifting, we don't mind the sailors sinking. we don't catch the dreams- while weeping, you and i we just sit in your bed talking while chilly breezes blow children sleeping- we were snuggled there, upon sheets and listening. we were hearing books and laughter. you were coughing, but i was after. we all are sick sometimes.