• inspiration. i want it. i want to create. so very badly. but i'm all blank inside. i used to be an indian. i'm sorry. i used to be native american. i'm trying to be politically correct now. i used to be red. and black and blue. and green and yellow. and purple. but now the color's are gone. so i've nothing to create with. do you do you do you notice how every other chick out there thinks they're different? that they're "not like other girls"? i hate that. we're all the same. everybody is made out of blood and guts and squishy gray matter and skin and bone and gall. and if you have to announce you're different, then you're obviously not trying hard enough. hi my name is myvienswontstoppopping. it's true they won't. i hate that feeling. does anyone else feel it? or is it just me? honestly. in my neck and legs. neckandlegsneckandlegsneckandlegs. i feel the viens twist and POP! they're broken. i kindof want to unravel just one vien. like find one close to the surface of my skin, take a hold of it and pull. and keep pulling just to see where it leads. probs to my heart. once i get to my armpit i swear i'll stop. She is everything to me, the unrequited dream A song that no one sings, the unattainable She's a myth that I have to believe in All I need to make her real is one more reason

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