Its moving day. The morning air weighs on my shoulders like a blanket. Cigarettes are a must. Inhale...Exhale...that is familliar enough to call home.Putting everything I own into my small VW convertible makes me feel a little like smurfette. Why am I always hungry? Am I really ready for a two bedroom uptown apartment, where I will dwell alone? I thought for the longest time that my life was strictly about fun and celebration, a mixture of drugs and booze and singing Beastie Boys songs...I'm crafty and thats what I like...
Reason for writing:
Just random...I am moving, though
Birth sign: Not entered
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