how 'bout a little fire scarecrow?
there are pigeons nesting in the roof over my balcony. they look at me with their bobble heads and defiantly build their home over my head. there is pigeon shit on my table. and worst of all... their pigeon noises sound like humping. so they "uh, uh, uh" all day outside my room. while i hide inside fearing that they carry the bird flu and will proceed to transmit it to me and all of my loved ones. simply because i am too much of a softie to kick them out of their little love nest.

i am pmsing. and pms is a bad outfit on me. especially right now. i am feeling paranoid and insecure. and he calls me on it. fucker.

i am haunted by my past lovers.

i am reading cohen's beautiful losers for the second time. and it has most definitely contributed to my current mood. i want to feel glory. sainthood. day long orgasms. helpless. wet. love? violence.

if i cut off your arms and cut off your legs
would you still love me anyway?
if you're bound and you're gagged
draped and displayed
would you still love me anyway?


why don't you love me anyway?