The man has it in his mailbox.
My seventeen year old existence, crushed, trampled and bludgeoned into six pages.
Devoid of the failures, the emotion and the transformation, it lies.
One of the more important passkeys to where I want to be.
Ah well, I'd better cut the mystery drama before I lose the last ounce of your attention that I'm clinging onto.
That Katy Perry song has been playing on repeat for the past forever. There's something about the song that I just can't get over. And I don't think it's the beat. God forbid it's the imagery that it's supposed to create in my head, I have a feeling it's the underlying theme of bold, spontaneous feminism. You know, like the world would've been a better place if not for the Y chromosome.
That said, I wore eyeliner today. Lots and lots of it. A black Revlon pencil + my sister + me = Tommy Joe Armstrong - the voice. I'd show you pictures if I didn't care for your sanity. But I'm nice like that.
Mac! Now, now, it's not like Apple's infallible. Still, one of the best things that's happened to me. Meet Baby Epsilon, my very own MacBook Pro:
Synchronize 2008! Suffice to say, IT happened. :)
P.S.: I'm male. I swear I am.
