because we never turn out the way we thought we would.
I'm haunted a little this evening by feelings that have no vocabulary and events that should be explained in dimensions of lint rather than words.
I've been examining half-scraps of my childhood. They are pieces of distant life that have no form or meaning. They are things that just happened like lint.
1. name:
2. birthday:
3. place of residence:
4. what makes you happy:
5. do you wear sunglasses indoors/at night:
6. an interesting fact about you:
7. are you in love/have a crush at the moment:
8. favourite place to be:
9. current obsession(s):
10. best memory of 2005:
RECOMMEND
1. a film:
2. a book:
3. a band, a song or an album:
PLUS
1. one thing you like about me:
2. two things you like about yourself:
3. ability to juggle on a scale of 1 to kittens (kittens being circus level):
4. post a picture of something.