Just a girl with too many voices in her head trying to tell her what to write. Hopefully you like some of it as much as I like writing it!
The fact that I chose the picture above out of ALL the pictures I could have selected for the main picture of this article speaks volumes about us. We were at a Great Gatsby inspired party that was in D.C. Dana made the dress I'm wearing and found hers in a perfectly themed shop. I'm not sure where Chele got her hot ass suspenders ensemble but it doesn't matter. This is who we are in a nutshell.
Why You Buggin'?
Boy are you in for a treat, readers. This one's a doozy, so strap in and enjoy the ride. Allow me to set the stage: It's summer. I don't remember the year, honestly. Some days it feels like it was a lifetime ago while others I feel like it just happened last week. That really doesn't matter now, I suppose. It has no bearing on the story, just my own thoughts and feelings about getting older.
- Top Story - September 2021
- Top Story - September 2021
WeightlessTop Story - September 2021
Most people, at least until recently I think, would look at me and ask "Who?" whenever I mentioned my favorite band. Even with their first Number 1 song on the Alternative Rock charts, a feat I feel was way too long of a time coming, I still receive this perplexed look when I talk about them to someone new.
The Chicken Thief
I could not remember the last time I tasted food. Had I ever been fed? Did these foolish humans ever think about my needs? Hardly. Despite my constant reminders, loud ones mind you, they always assured me 'You've already been fed! Stop trying to lie. You can't fool us!'
OCD or OC...Me
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Or as it's more commonly known: OCD. I was not diagnosed, officially, until I was in my mid-twenties. However, it wasn't until just a week ago that I truly understood what it meant, besides the glaringly obvious fact that I will pull my hair straight out of my head if not medicated properly. (Trichotillomania is the official term. It's a subset of OCD)
The Power of Love
Looking at herself in the mirror, Priscilla felt a ripple of nerves in her belly. The fluttering feeling was not unlike how she'd imagine having actual butterflies in her stomach would feel but she rather liked the sensation. It reminded her of what tonight meant, what it was.
Weight of the World
The blinking green light was the first thing I saw when my eyes opened. It flashed -in, out, in, out- as if on a timer. Everything was dark save for that light, yet my eyes had no trouble deciphering the shapes and forms surrounding me. Maybe I can't tell what they are, given my limited knowledge of the world of humans, but at least I can see.
It was odd, this soft yet firm structure I was told to sleep on. I kept looking underneath it, for what I wasn't sure but it just seemed so bizarre. How did it keep itself upright while holding my weight at the same time? It wasn't made of stone like most things under the ocean which made me worry it would collapse. It didn't, though. That fact only perplexed me further.