spin me around again...

mint chocolate coffee.

0.3 felt tip pen.

passport notebook.

voyeurism.

empty chairs.

broken cookies.

that's all it takes. 

ultimately. that's just all it takes.

i'm vain...

and the canon service centre knows that too.

i can't imagine anything more embarrassing than sending your camera into service without removing the memory card. it doesn't help that there were more than 50 narcissistic photographs of myself with blood red lipstick and green eyeshadow. horrific i tell you, but the service centre guys would have had something to laugh about. (but then again, if they circulate it, i might become a movie star...)

my face may even be pasted on a dart board and every time someone aims well enough for a bullseye, i get a pimple. (although i'm quite sure there are a handful of people who may be doing that already...) grievances aside, i think it is only prudent that you be protective over your photos, even if you may want to be 'discovered'. your intellectual property is at risk too, and you never know if the person on the other side needs a subject for a voodoo experiment...

Resonance

i think i've seen every star that i care to see.

and i don't want to leave.

it hurts when you're self-deceived.

good charlotte is full of cheesy lyrics. but sometimes, cheese isn't a bad thing. it resonates loud and clear and shuts your brain switch off. writing becomes benevolent. drawing becomes psychotic and the cheese melts your inhibitions. 

cheese is cheesy. so if you care enough to be cheesy go spread somewhere else. hardcore camembert and brie only accepted here. they stand the test of time.

death and all of his friends

i don't want to cycle, re-cycle revenge. i don't want to follow death and all of his friends.

if this is what is called anger, i don't like it. if this is what is called turbulence, it is not helping me. i need a new life playlist. a tune to dance to along with people and all the paraphernalia. i am punching this screen and plucking out all eye-balls. because even when you convince your self that nothing could get better and you are at the top, a drop from the ceiling, a fight, a fire, sets you in rewind. and then you see, that unlike more privileged people, you run on windows; you crash and restart.

Dangerous

"Hold on tight. You know she's a little big dangerous..."

"That girl is so dangerous, (That girl is so Dangerous) she's so dangerous, that girl is a bad girl..."

Je suis dangereux. L'aimer!

Au revoir,

Amelie