paperclips are the sex.

the embodiment of patheticness
lifts me high in its fiery hands
burning the lips in which
i've tattooed a permanent smile.

the idea is to look into my eyes.
the idea is to forget everything else.

i am blogging at random coz its freezing.
and i forgot my sweater. i did. *smacks head*

i am 24 what the fuck am i doing
keeps playing in my head like thriller
to the endless michael jackson tributes

cold turkey. i might have to face my first cold turkey.
and its not thanksgiving yet. its scary. cold cold turkey.

my hair is growing.
if its growing at least grow right.
no. it grows randomly. a curl here.
maybe 2 curls there. i'm all curly.
straight is not an option.

i think i want to be a stand up comedian.
i am very sure i can make people laugh
and at the same time inject some crude truth
that will give them nightmares at night.
go crying to their mamas and suck on their thumbs.
or cut themselves and look at the edge dreamily.

if you're still reading this, you must either be bored,
angry, concerned or love me.
tell me. coz i'm beginning to chose which building
at what time of day to jump off from.

of course i am kidding.
look at me.
i am all smiles.

give me some money and i will stop this.
give me some love and i will marry you.
give me some weed and we will get high.
give me nothing and well, what can i do.

i get by.
i always do.