Fragment Monster Still

If there's a quick fix to all these alzheimer-ish quirks today, a minor lobotomy is on my shortlist.

Reading hasn't been helping either. Perhaps my brain has turned to mush? I cant seem to transmit any cohesive thought. Somehow, it deadens before any audible word is made. Oh well. Perhaps muteness suits my style?

Fragment Monster

Today is blender-shaker-word day. Or otherwise put, becoming-less-lucid.

What is it with these fits of nuttiness? It's a personality glitch which I spy to be genetic . Nut-- that is ME. No amount of psycho-babble can cure this. I cannot be talked out of this, er, bad habit, of loosely stumbling into every worst possible moment a klutz, like myself, can get into. I have no mold for finesse. That is the incurrable truth. Oh well.

I'm all fragment-monster today. I havent been talking(as in with audible words) too eloquently. It's all-- Uh-huh, Yeah-um, Ahhh, Errr. Whistles and Clicks. I have all my audiences baffled. Great way to create mystery, ey? I tell you there is nothing more sad than being an idiot these days. Everyone around me seem to be sparring off adages and tales of eloquence. They're all freaking achievers! Oh Well.

At least mediocrity hasnt fallen out of fashion, yet. Oh yeah, I still have that stamped on my forehead.

Breathing And Sulking Still

Hello universe!

I cant say I'm fully recovered. Post hibernation and treatment, I seem to be fine. With the way I openly became insanely vague-neurotic b*tch after that muppet broke my insecure little heart, I can now officially say that from here on, it is blatant that I shall be the world's oldest living (breathing and sulking) twenty five year old spinster. Oh well, what's new?

Anyways, I have come to a resolve. From now on, I shall, to fill in the void, so to speak, live vicariously through Brangelina and the chosen ones. Mild obsession(I hope, for my sake) is like the designer drug for that post-epic trauma. It gives you excessive highs--especially when you see TOUCHING in the latest candid/authorized/ staged/ unstaged razzie pics and lows-- wait, what lows? I love this couple, there never seems to be a let-down. It's always happy-happy-joy-joy. OmyGus, I love Hollywood and all its smut.

All this coming from a girl who has a passion for all things Karen-O-ish and has a special soft spot for Kim and Gerald. I amaze myself. It's all fluff from here on out. The gods help me. And just for the record, I've never admitted to class or lack thereof either. So that brings me to that proverbial question? What am I? Hmmm...What, indeed...

I hope I'll be able to at least make intelligent verbal nausea for the days to come. Hmmm... or I could just become like a fragment monster like Ms Jolie herself(although I find it endearing, it makes her soooo human.. Gus, I love her), but I dont think I could carry that too well. I might as well channel inner Carrie and stave off future plans of becoming diety-level. That always seem to be comforting at most.