Well it has officially happened, folks. I have donned my aluminum foil helmet and am patiently waiting in the rain for my parents to come pick me up from the strange planet from whenst I came. (whenst???)
It “could” be that I am entering a very transformative period of my existence, OR it could be that I stupidly stopped my meds cold turkey and now I am just going back to “”normal”. Either way, stuff is happening, and not just in the bathroom either.
It’s kind of difficult to have a regular, vanilla conversation with other people anymore. I mean it’s like, “Hello Justina how are you? and I respond with, “The true question that is in your heart, my soul partner, is why have we lost the true desire to love and be loved by the very crux of our existence?”. *bangs head against wall* THAT, right there, is like a crystal ball right in to my future, showing me as an 85-year old cat lady. Because THAT. sigh. It’s not like I can control it, it just comes out of my mouth without thought or warning. BUT, if I could somehow hook that shit up to some sort of alarm system, then myself and my “soul partner” (who is, occasionally, the very cute but very young grocery clerk at the Italian store) would have fair warning of the impending comet storm of enlightenment.
“Sometimes” I can be one of those self-depricating, tortured soul type of people-but lets face it, without the “dark melancholy”, thoughtful poetry and great horror movies would not exist. How could we possibly live without either one of those??? Exactly. So consider it a priveledge that I have chosen YOU to be privy to my tsunami of glorious weirdness and awkward dirty jokes. One day you’ll thank me. Or make a voodoo doll in my image. Either way, I know you’ll be thinking of me…