Sudden flakiness of feet and instead of thinking how disgusting the mood is winter's here! Right now at this particular moment I am happy if not exactly content because I am my own microcosm, fuck you Metaphysical poetry. The Haiku Cuckoo's now up on the anti-aatlamo strip of the staircase wall at uni and dear Middle English Literature, I do not see why, I do not see why at all, and since that is more than enough reason to not study, fuck you too.

Yours sincerely, girl who does not like to sweat.



I want hot water and rum and the silly deadly daze afterwards, I've been wanting it all day.