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typewriters&nicotine.
January 10, 2009

subconscious disregard ;

for once, these actual words coming out from someone so strongly opinionated, is bizarre. i am dead serious when i say that i have got nothing to say.

don't you feel that life is very much a routine?or maybe, at least i do.

for once, my life seems so clear; my every thoughts rooted out in maps, just quickly flashing but without a sound.

My list of I's:
i don't want fame in any kind of sense. it will only deteriorate my already twisted mind.
i would want to vanquish money if possible and come out with something witty that can substitute currency through a never-ending natural resource. (eg. leaves?)
i would want to meet Robert Pattinson as a random person to share my different perspectives and eventually, fall in love.
i would want to go back to school so that i'd be able to channel my creativity and for it to take up all my free time.
i would want to pierce my tongue.
if allowed, i would already get a tattoo at the left side of my neck.
i want to be fixed.
i want to pack my bags and dissappear alone. would be happy enough even if, everyone i love, thinks that i died during my time travelling.
i need to be saved.

i hate fame.
i hate fame.
i hate fame.

quick, get the the "New Moon" movie out soon so i can get my not-meant-for-earth brain away from awful reality and back to my affair with Edward Cullen.