hao meow meow

I saw this dog in front of Market City.
Coolest canine outt.






Speaking of dogs, this is mine.

Justin says:
sounds like jane austen met shakspear and had a demonic lovechild
A WILD DEWGONG APPEARED! says:
Austen is a slut.
Justin says:
you can call austen a lot of things
but she is NOT easy

Talking about literature.
True closet nerd, I am.

& that was my day.

green.

You always seem to know what you're doing.
Always.

Innate sense of direction.
Undisputable instinct.

So very
sure
about
everything.

I'm brushed in envy. Skin, previously tanned, is marbled green.
Flaws on display.
Nothing to say.

What's concealed within my body
is no longer uncharted territory.
I am an open book, and you are closed,
on the shelf,
wedged between
Orwell
&
J.D. Salinger.

My insides are on the ground before me,
and there is a trail of intestine
leading
to
my
mouth.

Oh, it's red.

I apologise for the mess.
I'm all over the place, I fear.
So very
dis
join
ted.

And you are not.

& that was my day.

OH MAN OH GOD

So today;
my cousin & I
sat in my room
& took our clothes off
& talked about unicorns,
eggs
&
respect.

Family first, bruhh.







& that was my day.

ode to books that I really liked.

I haven't finished Catch-22 yet, but it's actually one of my favourite books..

'It was the despair of Lieutenant Scheisskopf's life to be chained to a woman who was incapable of looking beyond her own dirty, sexual desires to the titanic struggles for the unnattainable in which noble man could become heroically engaged.
'Why don't you ever whip me?' she pouted one night.
'Because I haven't the time,' he snapped at her impatiently. 'I haven't the time. Don't you know there's a parade going on?'

& a tad more sombre;

They couldn't dominate Death inside the hospital, but they certainly made her behave. They had taught her manners. They couldn't keep Death out, but while she was in she had to act like a lady.

& this book I am reading at the moment (that I plan to use as a text for extention 2 so BACK OFF IT'S MINE! :D ) Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson. Lessssbian book, but incredibly well written.

The door was open. True, she didn't exactly open it herself. Her butler opened it for her. his name was Boredom.
She said, 'Boredom, fetch me a play thing.'
He said, 'Very good, ma'am,' and putting on his white gloves so that the fingerprints would not show he tapped at my heart and I thought he said his name was Love.

& she can get creepy but awesome;

Odd to think that the piece of you I know best is already dead. The cells on the surface of your skin are thin and flat without blood vessels or nerve endings. Dead cells, thickest on the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet. Your sepulchral body, offered to me in the past tense, protects your soft centre from the intrusions of the outside world. I am one such intrusion, stroking you with necrophiliac obsession, loving the shell laid out before me.
The dead you is constantly being rubbed away by the dead me.

BOOKS ARE YAY.

c:
& that was my day.

I bet you're sick of it already.

So there's this boy out there
& I think I am smitten.
He writes me songs & buys me coffee;
as if that doesn't make a great mister.
It's only been a few days
But it's been the happiest few days
in a really long time.
I can't imagine anything better
than just being with him.

<3

i love you.



& that was my day.