Mar 02, 2004 12:37
I'm cutting out pictures and pasting them together. Making portraits of myself, of who I want to be, and then I'm storing them away, or sending them to you, my friend across the country. I think I want to be a fashion photographer, but I don't have the drive to do anything but sit around and drink coffee.
I can't stop. I just can't. They find me out or I tell them, and then it's passed off as nothing. Don't forget that I'm lost. Don't forget that I was drugged out and broken and now I'm supposed to have everything straightened out. Problems solved and replaced with other problems.