Measure me in metered lines and one decisive stare, the time it takes to get from here to there. My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free, I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely, I am so much better than I used to be.
Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives. Drowning in the pools of other lives. Rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony. Get clobbered on by courtesy. In love with love and lousy poetry. And I'm leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense. And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play. But it almost feels okay --The Weakerthans, Aside
I never know what to say in these bio things. I can't stand it when my food touches. I adore horror. I'm a big wuss. I love rock and roll more than I love you. I'm probably geekier than you care to know. I always wanted to be punk, but I'm not really angry enough.
Anything I say very well could be a lie. If you're really curious, you'll just read the damn journal. If you friend me, I'll likely friend you back 'cause I like attention. Oh yeah, and friends. I like friends too. I can get really damn angsty at times. I'd apologize for it, but it's my damn journal and I can do what I want. /end childish tantrum :P
Other nicks I use: SparkRocker, PsiberZombie, Mousemallow. There's no garauntee it's me if you see those anywhere else, but if it's in my journal, it's likely me.
Most of my icons are stealable. If they're not made by me (it'll be noted in the description) I'd rather you didn't. If you must, please give the original creators credit.