so many pairs of black underware on the floor in this room- where do they come from. i see two, three? is that sort of all i ever where in my boyfriends house?
red bull for breakfast. hanging out in a loft, in ny, with a band, who is famous, and about to go on tour.
how come i only want to write when i had to leave 5 minutes ago?
how come i really like nature but REALLY hate the rain.
how come i put on cheap make up that i bought in queens- goldlipgloss- and i am yet again going out to meet a man who is a stranger but will soon be taking photos of me, knowing my face better than i do. taking a piece of my photogenic soul.
how come the lip gloss – the smell of it- makes me feel like i am in junior high. going to meet an upper classman.