"Well, you're magic," he said, "but don't let it all go to your head.": pretend that you love me.

I suppose I have a really loose interpretation of 'work' because I think that just being alive is so much work at something you don’t always want to do. Being born is like being kidnapped. And then sold into slavery. People are working every minute. The machinery is always going. Even when you sleep.
-Andy Warhol

i'm going through twitter withdrawals. i just feel so non-existent when i don't let hoards of internet folks know what i'm thinking or doing - or if i'm attempting another poorly executed witty remark. to compensate i've been getting urges to constantly update my facebook status which proves to be another risky situation. i should settle these cravings by doing laundry but i just can't bring myself to be the bigger person and walk away. i'm pretty sure what you just read was a fat joke slipping through the cracks. lets all do the hoe-down throw-down. (if my punctuation is not correct right there then i'm offing myself on a rope swing.)

i keep getting really inspired while i'm trying to fall asleep. or bits of stories or lyrics will pop into my head and i scramble in the dark, find my phone and text e-mail [you following the high tech lifestyle?] myself whatever. the only problem is my 170 character limit and disgust with shorthand or internet speak. plus i like to use my commas and apostrophes correctly. mama done taught me good.

last night ashley, jamie and i tried to break open the jew capsule and when that didn't work we opted for a classy night. rpattz was discussed - i was followed by a cop and sliced my foot open. things are a bit out of order but excruciating pain does that. and disgust but this is a transition into today which i'm convinced is easter and people are just lying to me. fuck you, bunnies. so i've been conducting my daily activities quietly and silently. meaning i haven't opened itunes or last.fm and i've been handwriting the elton john dream in detail in my journal while managing to amuse myself every few minutes with a gif of jackson rathbone dancing. my brain was pure rot ages ago, i find no harm in this.

i keep finding random bruises on myself. do i have a drunken alter ego that is clumsy? alright, i've switched to youtube videos to provide music. slideshows of th followill brothers set to True Love Way is really the only thing that can fix my mood right now. actually maybe a good photoshoot, which i've got ideas for but i can only force so many unwilling girls to pretend to be legendary groupies from the 70's. such is life. i also want my red hair dye back. i'm tired of the blonde fro. maybe i'll pretend to be kanye west's GF and shave my head. remember when i tried to do that in 7th grade on the mission trip? ah, the fun originally rebellious times. peaking at age 13 is such a tragedy.

i need a cigarette and to call gma sivvy and wish her a happy b-day. where is katie bird? maybe she'll sing b-day by beyonce or better yet get arnold to speak words of wisdom. i just blew our cover. sharing a smile, so far from home. and we would laugh, laugh til we cry.

True Love Way (live) - Kings Of Leon

wait hold on. bird and i found oldies but goodies on the flickr. prosperity rises! oh, wait, what was that dictionary? flourishing financially? curses.