the most bored bratt

it would be impossible to describe the new and impossibly hip skitzo thing i've had going on as of late. my head is constantly chattering loudly to my heart. often the chatting becomes shouting matches insighting a certain uncomfortable queezy feeling. i get the feeling that the fucker who said, "truth is always stranger than fiction" might have been a little more on my side than all the others. just a guess. i don't know what the fuck has happened to me as of late. this year literally bored the hell out of me when i read 2010's horoscope forecast on january first while watching 9 1/2 weeks and sighting mickey rourke as my first and foremost first love but that, like my notion that this year would be boring, quickly dissipated.
so far 2010 has been my new favorite book, "lullabies for little criminals", its been totally dirty and delicious demonic sex, poltergeist activity turned up to full blast, it's been paints, needles, thread, blonde and brunette, it's been tarot cards, psychic moons, false friends, filthy fuckers, aristocratic longings, noble bloodlines, street living, con artists, thieves, the battle between the dark and light, it's been honesty at all costs, it's been broken mirrors, hands raised against me, shoplifting and a fine art it is at that, this year has been misunderstandings, it's been me standing naked and accused of multiple costumes and roles while the real me was the only thing they couldn't see... it's been beating a heroin addiction only to be replaced with that monkey turning to speed... i lost my privacy, my sanity, my dignity, my self esteem and then i recalled the real me. it's been head games that i never meant to participate in but somehow ended up the banker in this sort of ballard game of mind monopoly. fuck. this year has been something like scratch tickets, beating odds, somehow seeing the underdog as the constand winner in the end and i can't recall the last time it felt this proper to be the comeback kid of 2010. fucking boredom my ass. maybe in my reality, my imagination, my world and my planet i exist on are of my own fabrication. this may be. but truth be told. my head has chosed this fashionable mental ilness to add some much needed color to my little life. xo