(no subject)
I have big plans. I'm working on my novel for novembre! and i have the perfect, simple, effortless death plan after Christmas Eve Mass. I really want to die as a birthday gift to all who've tolerated me. I never believed in love until I met a blonde girl in a parking lot on 18 Novembre 1978. But to die on my birthday, despite the symmetry, will ruin the Third Sunday of Advent; so have Christmas Eve and I can go.
The only place that would welcome me [with some suspicion] is the Mount. And my sisters are dying, while the Nazi Fetus Fucks take over the convent.
Death is the ultimate healing.
I'm looking for LSD. I don't want a brain anymore. I've had it long enough.