The start of something...or the end of sleeping in Virginia bigot bliss

Maybe life is better as pieces all thrown up and glued back together like an ugly puzzle so that when different types of souls glance at things they are pretty, or humiliating, or terribly sad..all at once, That is what I want to be. A big see through cube of transparent nothing.  How crazy are we all? To blog, to write, to feel that what is happening in my tiny head in this universe would be something that maybe might change a person's day...Maybe they will be out walking after shopping online for underwear that will make a boy remember their ass alone, and the words I said would pop into their head..like a song, or a Target ad. Oh I don't know anything. BUT, I do know that if I don't document all of these scribbles I have collected inside fake nostalgic/antique Barnes and Noble journals collected then i will never know...and it's too short and sweet a life to wonder what if.

In the pretentious style of all 24 and unders...I want to ramble like Kerouac and I think I am special enough to try