I am lacking tattoos and piercings and I am 17. I am upset and scared at being so very detached, although at the same time, wanting to be, from all of this. There are so many pictures! Ack, so many beautiful people that are scratched and faded out of memory, and I only want to keep hold of them all. Living happy, goodlifey style, it's appealing, but a pipe dream, I only want out of this inane monotony, I want something exciting, something I love,. Love, love that is, what it is. we are planning, fireworks! and angrily puffing exploding marshmallows, trips to the doctor! and all sorts of other frivolous niceties. Like muffins and milkshakes. I spent today on a twirling chair, staring angrily at a slow colour printer and willing it to print faster! I saw mismatched old faces, and always asking questions; what did you get? where are you going? mr parker has a new car! There is nothing very much to say. "Magnificent" I cannot write, coherently or lucidly. I like holding your hand. Take me to the theatre.
Manic. Manic. Manic!

Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: