ooh, shiny

Hehe. Hehe. 

Twilight: Something for the emos, something for the furries. 

Sorry, couldn't help myself.

Painted a lot today. Feels good. Bad when I forget important stuff like bathroom cleaning and the world but it's a very special feeling, painting. Not like writing, where every word means so much. A picture means something to me. Words do to but you know the difference. I like writing. I have to write, I write way more than I paint, my soul is black and white, words, words. 

Painting feels like laughing with my hands, with colours. (Vermilion like fire!)

Oh please. Writing about writing. That's so... Meta. Metawriting. I take it all back. (Haha, writing about painting is just as bad. How can anyone possibly describe a picture in words?)

Listening to: Regina Spektor - Us

Hello

Both of you. My two readers. (Or are you three?)

Well, let me just make a couple of things clear here, that I think people don't really get; I am not as confident as I seem. Or, I don't really think I seem confident but other people seem to think so. Whatever. The thing with this stupid blog is that I write some stuff here that I can't really say. But then on the other hand, I don't really know who reads it (if there actually is more than three people actually reading it). So I kinda write bullshit that means nothing. Fun for... no one.

I think I can say that I have three readers. Two of you are called Maria. The rest of you know who you are. (Yes. You can read it. It's ok.)

So who do I write for? Myself? Since I censor myself and have several other outlets I think not. For mom? I... No. For my roomie? Not really. For the rest of the readership? Sometimes maybe. Some of it.

I think I mostly wanted to keep old friends back in the old country posted on what's going on, but I doubt that anyone back there still reads this.

Oh right! Sorry Jojo!

Well... I think it's mostly a habit by now. I don't know.

Thinking about taking up belly dancing. Seems like a good way to train lots of interesting muscles. (Uhm... Unrelated issue yeah.)

Feeling slighty... sad. (Yep, that would be slightly as in shitloads.) Maybe I'm just tired. It's kinda late and I have to take a shower before bed.

There is so much I want to say. So very much. But I don't want to put any weight on anyone, and I'm scared...

So after a lot of writing, erasing, writing and erasing I realize I should probably go and take that shower already. Yep. Right about now.