Hello world. Welcome, as a primary witness to my many odd commentaries on life. That’s as if the universe is keeping tabs. Now concentrating on short prose/poetry with the criticism of an old English teacher resounding in my mind to ‘keep it simple.’ It still hurts.
Ripping the bandage right off my catlady status – Voila – The calm to all my calamities. Piglet, the gal on the left; she snores, as one does. Dusk, the boy. Well he may have been caught on a few summer days frolicking inside my neighbor’s gardens. I knew he’s been unfaithful.
Here’s Sarah in a nutshell. She discovered through writing that she is very morbidly fascinated with the perturbed. Recently she’s been quite taken with reading about serial killers for kicks. I don’t know, it gives her a choice high. She also likes the abundance of our universe. Like sitting at home and watching documents of lives that has gone by (perhaps unfairly ended by the subject of said former hobby), and being all too entirely giddy for 3 hours long old movies that invented the idea of cliche. I would think I’d like the idea of going to an actual cinema, a vogue show. Certainly had no problem feeding a stripper money from my mouth. That’s another side though.
All the more, I will always like too many pillows and the soft lull of a french framed window sill. Sometimes I’ll read French books too and only enjoy the pronunciation of their language with no depth of understanding. Sometimes… I like old music for the most part, whose title I do not know nor bother to find out – it feeds into the arbitrary fancy of a fantastical existence – let it play endlessly in the background of our forethoughts.