I'm going on a date tonight 

to try to fall out of love with you.

I know, I know this is a crime. 

But I don't know what else to do.

"As much as I ever could.

Adrian. 21. Denton.

Some people turn sad awfully young.

No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way.

They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and,

as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world.

I know, for I'm one of them."

Your sadness, it's beautiful.

The way he feels.

I want to drink the tears you cry.

I want your beautiful emotions to live, 

if even for just a moment, inside of me. 

Wednesday is to blame. 

I hadn't had black hair since some once upon a Freshman year.

I don't know what it is about the color black, really.

But lately, it's all I want on me (vestuario wise, ya nasty.)

(P.S;   Yes, that was very much said in Raven tone.)

If I had been on your mind on that day

Holding on to your thoughts, to your mind that way

You could've never jumped down in those arms

You could've never left my heart cold.

I'll never tire of this.

Finally got to watch the film Little Children, 

And I must say: I was not even slightly left disappointed.

Kate Winslet, as always, was just phenomanal in this. 

And Patrick Wilson, well, goddamn...he's perfect.

The overall uncomfortable themes of the story were so neatly put together.

Enough so, I've added the book to my "list of things to order on Amazon" list. 

Someday I'll compose an album, 

And each track will be titled after the time 
of which it was finished. 

11:05 PM.

All of them, por favor. 

Merci beaucoup. 

Before I die, I'd like to experience a night of writing 
While under the influence of drugs. 

Dream boy-toy: Josh Beech.  ♥

Marc Jacobs, I love you.

Oh, Carolyn Jones. You inspire me so.

And I wept myself to sleep that night because I had never before been so confused by love. 
I cringed and curled up in fetal position, grasping a hold of my chest so it may not intend reckless motions. 
I had to remind myself to breath, and for a few sustainable minutes hold my breath. 
Anything to settle the beating urge within me. A beating. Rapid heart-beats beating me whole from the inside out.                     I clutched my fists together, fury enough to pronounce war. I was in a battle. Sentiment and myself. 
I was overwhelmed. My least prediction was circling around in wayward precision, staring me down. 
And would I take back yesterday if I could? I don't know. Would I run away with him if I should? For good? 
If he meant it? If it were more, if it were love, if it were pure, if it were true? God knows. The moon knows. 
I sure as hell don't. I'm afraid. I'm haunted. I'm scared. I fear I might like you too much. 
I'm afraid. I'm haunted. I'm scared. I fear liking you too much may never be enough. 
And so you proceed. And so I weep. And so we both remain discreet, if tonight we sleep. 
Possibilities are endless. Tomorrows rising sun can change us. But tonight, we seek, 
from afar distance one-an-others unseen. If tonight, we dream, it will make no difference to our reality. 
The lonesome feeling is mutual.

Forget about your house of cards

And I'll do mine .

Truth is, I don't think you're emotionally stable enough to handle me as of now.
Certain songs make me cry in display, not because of sadness but of beauty.
My soul is wild, vivid. My heart is an ocean, mysteries lay underneath.
All these things unseen, they make me. 
My words are worth more than the blood I bleed.
I love cautiously, and rather unconditionally. I just want you to see.
To proceed. There is gold falling from the ceiling of this world. 
Falling from my heart. I'm unlike any other girl you've encountered.
 You'll in your lifetime meet one or two as myself.
This is not a brag. For your own recognition. I'm worth more than you think.
I'm far more than your foggy eyes choose to see. I deserve your heart as a whole.
And you, you don't deserve me. Not yet. I'm unsure if you'll ever. 

I finally got the chance to catch up on my dosage of Fashion Police aujourd'hui,

And my, oh, my-- by doing so, I've found yet another fashion muse.

She goes by Li Bingbing, and she is stunning, and I am obsessed.

YOUR  EMOTIONS

MAKE  YOU  A  MONSTER .

My birth-town is quite the catch.

And so is mon petit ami.

Viva Pomona! Indeed.