It's been a while, the need to write wasn't felt at all. Conveniently, he makes my raspberry swirl. I'm content and in the pink of health and happiness. Always learn up poems by heart, let them become the flouride of your bones. My time passes in a haze of music and sleep. I'm drawing again, everyday. My graphite pencils are rapidly getting depleted. The evenings are softly purple and the nights prussian blue with hazy wisps of silver. We can stretch and spread out, waiting for what time chooses to bring.

Birthday !

Yesterday JP bcame smarter, handsomer, cooler and a year older !
Happy belated birthday to the grey box with tendencies to bite : )

Night magic

It's magic, traditional magic. With magicians. You have to know how to reach up and pull beauty out of thin air. People want a little magic. Sex is its theater. There are sliding panels and trapdoors. The secret is a mgician doesn't buy magic. Admire the skill of a fellow magician but never fall under his spell.
I also read Germaine Greer's The Female Eunuch.

I am ill. I feel awful. Unbelievably awful.
Ryan who writes the most bizare, most wonderful, bestest comic ever wrote me the sweetest letter. Fool that he is he's actually encouraging me to stalk him nice and proper. Now only if we weren't on seperate continents. I think it's love, but that's just my opinion.
I had something very valid and rational to say but I'm ill so I'm excused.
Keep on keeping on kids.

Hug me or I shall destroy you.

I'm in love with this ninja.
LOVE.
I'm happy ! And I'm listening to Led Zep !
I went with my mother for this kid's first birthday party at Gymkhana. I saw a magician and had birthday cake. I was however not given a balloon : /
I'm happy and I have no reasons. Ha ha.
This ninja

Crazy-can't-draw-lady rant

Think of the story of how he won me my eight ball. Which just lies in my drawer. With a lot of junk. They gave me that certain amount of space to let me have my mess. I feel like being productive and organised and finicky about where you keep what and not letting you touch anything I own. I went all out and made me happy and found my graphite pencil again and drew the same. It was a relief to be drawing again but it has to irritate you that after so much time and after missing the paper so much I still am drawing the same things. I'm not submitting anywhere. EVER.
This man taught me how to draw. When he said he would I laughed and told him I already knew how to and had been drawing since I could talk. But he taught me these different things. And after that I have got stuck in this tiny corner where I unconsciously keep trying to apply what he taught me and to move the slightest bit from there. I have had some kind of crazy mind control game played which I don't understand which won't let me draw. It's like I won't be able to draw anything different till I get what I've been trying for so long exactly right. Ugh. I hate this kind of straitjacketing. Not being able to draw makes me more irritable and upset than any kind of denial. There are these certain themes that I've been wanting to work on for quite a while. And they've been stewing for so long that I have a pretty clear idea of what they're going to be like. I'll probably forget them or go crazy and have all my teeth extractedso that I don't bite before I get around to them. And my eight ball is considerably heavy. I could use it for murder. Won with such skill. Would be a fitting end.