A text message:

"Sophie was kissing my screensaver yesterday."

I want go home.

M.J.

Poor Baby.

"Fashion Blogging"

Is becoming inescapable in my internet orbits, and starting to mildly repel me from some of the things that I love... in turn, it is hurting my immortal soul.
Though they're touting their own personal fashion, this is exactly how everybody across the globe begins dressing similarly.
Trends: a voluntary slavery and curse that we are all susceptible to.
I hope for a day when apparel preferences will stop being inseminated into our subconscious, and return to more of an intimate ramble through our own experience and will; and of course regional anthropology, which is unavoidable.

Anyhow, that's all pretty dramatic, but it's how I feel right now.

Never looked better.

1. Lay waste,
2. spread thin,
3. make scarce.

Sometimes a rhythmic thought will come to me, many words in length, and be immediately memorized and refuse to leave, carrying with it force and suggestion of importance.
An incantation? And what do I do with it?
Allow it to echo, and gain momentum and strength til it wreathes my brain; an impotent exercise with no known outlet.
But in finer news, this woman pleases me.