I started to get unbearably sick of my old profile thing, so yeah. Getting sick of pretty much everything lately, you know? I hate when I get nacho tots at Bubbakoo's and they taste like halitosis. I'm not kidding. This has been happening frequently of late. The time is 12:39 am. Quite late. Or, quite early if you like to be that way. My neck hurts. The date is…oh it's like…the eleventh. Of November. I have been crushed into the very dust with a most poignant anguish for about two hundred and twelve days now. That's 5088 hours spent brooding and being an unappreciative immature ingrate that harps and dwells on unrequited love when children are sweating. In sweatshops. They sweat there. I very much enjoy music and literature. I like Fall Out Boy. I like Modest Mouse. I like Brand New. I like Say Anything. I like Passion Pit. I like 40's swing. I like 20's bop. I like La Dispute. I like Panic! at the Disco (not so much their new album). Many other things as well. Currently, my favourite literary work for reasons unknown is "Ligeia" by the lovely lovely Edgar Allen. Obviously, ONE of my favourite movies is A Clockwork Orange. I also like Hugo, and Warm Bodies, as well as Edward Scissorhands and Sleepy Hollow. Corpse Bride and (surprise) The Nightmare Before Christmas are up there too. Also, every Michael Cera movie, and The Office. Oh and Sweeney Todd of course not to be forgotten. The Last Airbender was so bad, I cried. I s**t you not. I cried. Don't fund the next one. Make M. Knight Shamalamalama-sama give up the movie industry. I entreat ye. Don't fund that s**t. Also, if you feel as worthless as I do at this point in time, trust me. It gets better. At least I hope so. Otherwise, I've nothing left to hold on to, and that just can't be. I'll leave with a cute little Poe quote to sit with in closing.
"Those eyes! Those large, those shining, those divine orbs! They became to me twin stars of Leda, and I to them the devoutest of astrologers." - Unnamed Narrator on the beauty of the eyes of the beloved, the August, the placid and cherished Ligeia
Forever and ever and always infinite,
(Love always, Charlie) Alice
Please talk to me.
Postscript, I smell like a smoked ham from a bonfire I attended last night. Lovin it.