my new writing machine
my new writing machine
Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.
If I were the classier sort of girl, that typewriter up there would be an Underwood. I have to find some ribbons for it. It will be a bit like being a detective to find the right ones. I really have no idea how to start.
I've eaten about 5 chocolate Popsicles tonight. Something about the texture is really appealing to me every time I pass by the fridge. And now that I want to go to sleep, the guy who lives upstairs is testing out his bass equipment. I wonder if I have enough moxy to knock on the ceiling with the broom handle, as though I live in prewar New York City.
I've rediscovered the song Black by Pearl Jam. So, I've been falling asleep to the sad story every night.
I really am going to die alone and Buckley will chew my knuckles and wrists for food while he waits for family to realise it's been a couple of week since anyone has heard from me and come calling.
yup.
Whatever.
Labels: Gish, habits, home improvement, how not to be an idiot, insomnia, neurotic, opinions, Sylvia Plath, zopiclone