ten facts about my room:
1. it’s small.
2. it’s beautiful in the golden hour.
3. it’s covered in half-finished paintings.
4. and paint. on the floor, on the covers, everywhere.
5. there’s a bed in it that is very old and falling apart.
6. the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling are losing their stickiness and sometimes fall on my head in the night
7. you shouldn’t close the door when you are using nail polish remover
8. you can hear the neighbour who works at a call center getting ready for work at three in the morning perfectly, every wrong note.
9. there are dents in the vinyl flooring where I’ve dropped heavy things
10. some days four other people troop in and pile on top of the one person and the very old bed.
Johann and I!
I just found this photo of me apparently attacking my cat.
i just want to touch people all the time
to trace the lines of their faces, ruffle their hair, pick at strings on their clothes.
Every day, every minute.
Contact is something I crave. And the funny thing is, I don’t think anyone even knows. I wait for them to touch me first, because I can’t.
I like sitting, just touching shoulders.
Do you guys remember that time my dad gave me his old shirt?
It’s a skirt now.
(Check out my extremely non-exact process on muh blog.)
My dad bought me a new pair of sneakers today. He says he’s afraid my current ones are alive. Also:
- I ordered a new pair of glasses. So glad. The other one was taped up so much I could barely see.
- I think I’m coming to terms with my hair. At any rate, I use a lot less shampoo.
- I heard the news and evacuation warnings for the eastern coast. Terrifying.
- My kitten never came home.
