Pulsing throughout my body, there is a strange, strange sensation. I ignore it of course, and go on with my daily happe-n-ings. The Wise Wound indeed. There's not very much time left, there never is. I have never been this disorganized in my life. Throwing this everywhere, forgetting to dust...nothing seems to need to have a place, perhaps because I feel like I am soon to be misplaced myself. Will money make up for it? Will it be worth it? I can only hope.
During the course of a dreary, boring English lecture, like they all almost are (I blame the curriculum, and the environment), I overheard people's chats, and realized yet again that I am quite sane. Large amounts of liquor make people do quite peculiar, if not idiotic, things. I have heard of a girl who defaced her entire mid-section by getting a large tattoo across it. Always a smart idea, to get a non-representational tattoo during prom weekend. I need to put that on my "to do" list. I also heard of people having intercourse in the oddest places. I don't see the fascination with genitalia rubbing, like I previously mentioned. It appears to be vile and disgusting and primitive, but I suppose when one gets the nature's "call" they must act upon it, no matter how grotesque the act itself may seem. So I will wait...
Isadora, Isadora. I want a portrait like that.
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