Feelin' the blogging love

Disclaimer: This blog post contains nothing of any worth, and may be a large waste of your time.  If you hope for the superpower to read minds, then this is your lucky chance to read mine, but if not, don't say I didn't tell you so.

You know, nobody blogs anymore so that's awesome.
But most of the time I like things better when I'm the only one doing it...
like being in love with Robin Hood
or reading Science Fiction.
But secretly I still love Jane Austin and Charlotte Bronte.
Truthfully, I'm not one who just types on the internet like I'm talking to a friend.
But mostly today I just need a friend.
Unfortunately today, these keys have fallen victim to my thoughtful fingers
because my typewriter has lost its spring for the day.
AKA my power socket in my room blew out.
Is it time to change?
I keep changing but I'm the same person.
Really though.
Changing is who I am.
Change is my personality.
But don't go around selling polaroid film for less than $50
because I'm all out of cash and I wish I could carelessly squander my money
like some sort of pop-hipster-billionaire who wishes she was somebody she isn't.
You can just forget about that last post.
That was a bunch of....crap and I think I ate too many Lindt truffles.
(Let me just say, the peanut butter are divine. Right up there next to dark chocolate)
It is untrue that I hate boys
and it is untrue that I hate my flip phone.
Two very comparable subjects, but I
Won't get into that.
I have these dimples on my cheeks that really make me look like I have
cellulite on my face, because they are in every odd nook and cranny, and the one on my little cheek that most people say is cute, isn't deep enough to be cute, so it just looks like a chubby cheek, and the ones near my lips look like somebody stabbed me with a pen, and the ones under my eyes are just very odd.
It's really a challenge to smile at everyone, when every time you smile,
you look like a walking blob of cellulite.
This is getting a little long, but I might as well tell you that I'm into skulls and gold.
Gold may positively correlate with skulls, but don't confuse correlation with causation.
Sometimes I wonder what it would take to pop this bubble.
But really, are cello players more flexible than the other string players?
And I like hawaiian tourist shirts in the winter.

Hopeless

You still make my stomach flip.
Flip?
Dance.
Twist and contort into shapes of love and...
love.
Love?
Nothing more than lost and unforeseen.
Nothing more than hints of jealousy and permanent damage.
Sigh the last sigh and restrain yourself, dear stomach,
for the knots will not soon untie
and they will more likely be rent in twain.

Have you gotten the hint yet?

conversations

"I mean, this isn't because of me"
"It's not."
"It couldn't be my fault."
"Of course not."
"But something could have gone wrong."
"Maybe."

"Do you care?"
"Only if you want me to."
"Can't you just give me a straight answer?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think that this is getting a little carried away?"
"Don't you?"

"Green apples are sour"
"Maybe its all about perspective."
"Or maybe they just are"
"Maybe"

"Romney isn't going to win."
"We believe in miracles"
"I'm not even that political."
"Then why were you yelling at Twitter an hour ago?"
"I just don't want the store to be open on Sunday."
"Why? It's a free country."
"That doesn't mean we have to lower our standards."

"This is a mess."
"Why don't you clean it up?"