I never feel like writing here anymore. I'm not sure if that's a bad thing. it's nice to have it here, to keep in touch, up-to-date, but I'm sure it's not worth it if all I have to talk about is fashion and funerals and mediocrity. what can I say, really. that I'm head of costume run crew and want to chop my hair off and my grandmother thought they buried pop pop in the wrong plot. that I wanted to leave chocolate bars hidden around the wake or that no one could stop crying our that my clothes still smell like pennsylvania. there are a hundred things, but I'd rather tell you in the dark, in some backseat where I can punctuate carelessly and repeat myself.

there are a thousand things, reasons why I've stopped making lists and I make sure to tell my mother that I love her. but I won't make you read them.

ash @ 11:08 PM