unbearably hideous drivel coated in super wisps of happy cool joy
Lonely sadness. My blood is tainted with frost and broken glass. My soul is shattered. I am a dancer, radiant as the spring's first blossom. I am a starlet in a miracle moment eternal, blessed with life and memories. I don't know why I kill.
posted by blossom snakesworthy @ 8:00 PM
2 comments
I have found that the spinning top symbolizes all of existence insofar as the top is being kicked around by a frustrated toddler. Lately, upon reflection, I have also discovered the persistence of dramatic soliloquys in not only real life, but in televised dramas, House Committee meetings and Shakespeare. At the less than nubile age of 8, I became president of the canned ham tossing club, nee Pamela's Hamelas, local 718, Oxnard, Kansas, renaming it "The Pleasurist's Ovine Rememberance Klub (P.O.R.K.)." It has since disbanded, but, O! the memories.
2 Comments:
i heart you, ellison.
well.
write some more.
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