I probably

should've had one of these sooner.
It's such a relief to get it all out
whenever I want.

Except now I want to get it all out at once.

I'm just saying, a little sick of tumblr because everybody's
pictures are the same and they're
all little girls who are 17
and think they're so indie and cool
holyshitlookatmeandalltheuniquepicturesIreblog
not that there's anything wrong with that.
It's just not my thing.
There's nothing worthwhile to read though,
and this is better because I always think
my own writing is worthwhile.
Considering I don't expect anyone to read this that
leaves me free to write anything I want.
forever.

aaaaaaaaah my life is a vampire weekend song stuck on repeat.
( I wish )

It's more like:
A gorgeous vintage skirt.
Early Versace, when the original was still alive.
It doesn't look like it matches with any of your bags
or shoes
or blouses.
But put it on and voila!
You look banging from every angle.

Too bad it's stuck in the bottom of some mildewy box
in your attic,
and it's not coming down
becasue you don't know its up there.

The house will probably burn down and
the skirt will just burn with it,
undiscovered.

How sad.
I've such high fantasies of my own life,
but I refuse to live it.
hypocrite.
martyr.
bum.

How can I promise myself that this year will be any different?