A red and black themed post
Aug. 4th, 2009 05:06 amJust because one doesn't fit the standard profile of addiction doesn't necessarily mean that one is not an addict. Some addictions you can't see because they aren't the usual shit, but if you think about it, they inspire a lot of the same behaviors in people, and are just as toxic to the addict and to their loved ones. That said, man, I hate my subconscious... I went to bed early last night, but it didn't really do much good because I had nightmares all night and woke up feeling like I'd wrenched every muscle in my body. FML.
I hate the days leading up to a full moon, the way how I feel everything is ramped up to double or triple intensity. Add to this the fact that this is usually about when my period hits and you have a perfect storm of sensory overload. Thank the fucking gods, if all goes according to plan, this will be the last one I will have to ride out alone for a little while.
My sister told me at dinner the other night that it was a crime that I don't wear red more often. I agree, it does look rather disgustingly fantastic on me. "I... wouldn't be caught dead, but if they catch me at all, let them catch me in dead red." There's a little red dress I've been eyeballing in the Vicki's Secret catalog that I think I may have to either get or ask for for my birthday.
For shits and giggles I was browsing used cars online a couple days ago, just as a very much a longshot plan B to getting the land barge. There's a dead ringer for the Cherry Whore I drove a couple months back available for a decent price. I must admit the color does suit that particular make and model rather well... I don't know... I never saw myself in a red car before now, but that particular one appeals to me for some reason.
I've got a yen for strawberries... and some melted Green & Blacks to dip them in. I'm discovering that either my tastes are changing or I've simply just had all the wrong kinds of dark chocolate before. I've had a few bars of dark recently that were delicious to the point of me wondering why I'd carried such a firm hatred of it. It's even better if you chase it with fresh ground columbian coffee.
I miss
cell23.
I want my head to clear, I want to stop having to force myself to function despite the constant buzz of emotional static I have to deal with. I swear it feels like someone left an untuned TV or a radio on in my brain and then broke off the power, channel and volume buttons.
I'm getting my second tattoo, as well as the first one touched up, on the 12 of September. Anyone wanna come? I don't think I want to go this one alone.
Maybe I should go back to bed.
I hate the days leading up to a full moon, the way how I feel everything is ramped up to double or triple intensity. Add to this the fact that this is usually about when my period hits and you have a perfect storm of sensory overload. Thank the fucking gods, if all goes according to plan, this will be the last one I will have to ride out alone for a little while.
My sister told me at dinner the other night that it was a crime that I don't wear red more often. I agree, it does look rather disgustingly fantastic on me. "I... wouldn't be caught dead, but if they catch me at all, let them catch me in dead red." There's a little red dress I've been eyeballing in the Vicki's Secret catalog that I think I may have to either get or ask for for my birthday.
For shits and giggles I was browsing used cars online a couple days ago, just as a very much a longshot plan B to getting the land barge. There's a dead ringer for the Cherry Whore I drove a couple months back available for a decent price. I must admit the color does suit that particular make and model rather well... I don't know... I never saw myself in a red car before now, but that particular one appeals to me for some reason.
I've got a yen for strawberries... and some melted Green & Blacks to dip them in. I'm discovering that either my tastes are changing or I've simply just had all the wrong kinds of dark chocolate before. I've had a few bars of dark recently that were delicious to the point of me wondering why I'd carried such a firm hatred of it. It's even better if you chase it with fresh ground columbian coffee.
I miss
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I want my head to clear, I want to stop having to force myself to function despite the constant buzz of emotional static I have to deal with. I swear it feels like someone left an untuned TV or a radio on in my brain and then broke off the power, channel and volume buttons.
I'm getting my second tattoo, as well as the first one touched up, on the 12 of September. Anyone wanna come? I don't think I want to go this one alone.
Maybe I should go back to bed.