| | I keep stumbling into the fact I don't know what to use my artistic energy on anymore. I want to paint, but what? Easiest thing to do with pent up artistic angst is take narcissistic self portraits, like so:
And all other writing becomes irrelevant, ignored, or innocuous at best. Oh look! Karin cut her hair. How fab.
What possessed me to drink coffee at this time of night?! Oh yes, we were going to study the lovely Radioactive Materials Handbook, with special, fun, RAD words. Ahahahahaha! I am sooo very witty.
No really. Everyone seems to think I'm hil-arrr-iousss, really, when I just make a fool out of myself. I'm not funny.
On a side note, neither am I talented. I'm some tiny manipulative spider, weaving a trap in front of your face when you blink. If you never blinked, stared me down, my body would slowly unravel and at your feet, a small arachanid would scatter for the depths of shadows.
The best is when you keep your eyes closed, my hand over your face as I push you under the surface of delusions. Struggle not, lovely. Breathe it in.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Won't you forgive me? I won't do it again, I promise. I promise.
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| | Posted 6/19/2009 9:43 PM - 9 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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