broken story telling in non-sequitor
1. it’s kind of nice living like a cowboy with no groceries. I say “kinda nice” and I mean, it’s fucking disgusting eating soup and rice and leftovers every day, but on the occasion that you buy a giant bag of CUTIE oranges and that’s all you have and so that’s all you eat, it’s kinda nice. orange smell permeates. i hope i become a living breathing walking around talking orange aroma. a mirage of oranges. if oranges could be herded, or if they flocked in a pack, i am pretty sure the english language would embrace them as a mirage. pretty sure. did you know that they’ve recently invented an edible perfume and you eat it and it releases some sort of something that then seeps through your pores on a time release??? wow. 21st century, thou art shiny.
2. Since I do twitter now, ONLY BECAUSE I WORK AT A COMPUTER FROM HOME, ONLY BECAUSE IT GIVES ME POETRY NEWS AND FASHION STUFF AND REGULAR NEWS (fuck if i care about regular news, but i decided to slip it in there). haha. only reason! it is not for the reason of I LIKE SOCIAL MEDIA AND AM A WHORE. no. it isn’t.
the problem is, my twitter name is ALISONABROHIIIM. funny right? It is really funny until you accidentally start spelling your name like this on legal documents and you don’t even realize. FUCK YOU 21ST CENTURY, I AM YOUR BABY AND I DIDN’T EVEN ASK TO BE BORN LIKE THIS! AND YET, there is twitter and it is SUCKING MY SOUL OUT OF MY BODY THROUGH MY melting eyeballz which are now firmly stuck to a computer screen via sleepy seed ooze and my own vegetating braincells make a good fucking paste to back up the molding process.
or i might die.