what beast would turn its life into words?

I...just felt compelled to add myself as a livejournal friend, for reasons I am finding difficult to articulate. Uhm. Some possible explanations I am entertaining in the face of a TOTAL VOID OF LOGIC:

1. This course of action clearly promotes the illusion of self-confidence. I am even considering someday finding it a place on a shiny, shiny college resume.

2. OR MAYBE it is of a profane nature and doesn't belong in such an overwhelmingly scrupulous environment: maybe I have actually just answered the eternal question would I do me? (I WOULD, AND I DO, IN CASE YOU MISSED THAT.)

2. OR MAYBE it is actually a masochistic Cave of Solitude. HOW WILL I EVER FRIEND ME BACK? WHAT IF I DRIVE ME TO FLOUNCIFICATION? I DON'T THINK I AM BUILT TO SURVIVE THIS KINDA ANGST. D: D: D:

3. ...and now I'm too busy weeping piteously to think of any more reasons. *BASKS IN LONELY LIVEJOURNAL DESPERADO-DOM* (I am totally badass enough to be a desperado okay. I am at least an outlaw in the face of LOGIC, and no one can deny that.)

[Poll #1397035]

...my brain, sometimes ze is inane as all hell. And I mean the doctor's-waiting-room level of hell reserved for procrastinators, I guess, because otherwise the phrase "inane as all hell" doesn't actually make any SENSE, does it. Because fire and brimstone are much more terrifying and smelly than they are inane. In other, much more pressing news, tea is delicious. Do you know who is even more delicious than tea? BETH MOTHERFUCKING DITTO, THAT'S WHO. THE GOSSIP HAS A NEW SINGLE OUT, YOU GUYS \o/ \o/ \o/. If you are unacquainted with Beth Ditto, she is all you ever need to know about awesomeness, pretty much. If you need any convincing, I would like to introduce you to ishyface's kick-ass picspam from forevers ago. I would also like to advertise the fact that an earbud has just found its way nearly up my left nostril, for reasons I am not sure enough of to report (read: I AM SO UNCOORDINATED THAT SOMETIMES THINGS WOT DON'T BELONG IN IMPOSSIBLE ORIFICES END UP THERE. that sounds horrifically double entendre-y, doesn't it ;__;). LET IT BE KNOWN THAT EVEN MY BOOGERS ARE RIOT GRRRLS. Also, this entry lacks any cohesive narrative. In case you hadn't noticed already. BRAIN, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD MANAGE TO SIT STILL FOR AWHILE? I WOULD BE VERY APPRECIATIVE, JUST SAYIN.

(ALSO, IT IS FRIDAY. I NO DO THE THINKY TOO WELL TONIGHT, BUT HEY! I LIKE THIS. DOUBLEPLUSGOOOOOD.)

I just made what was going to be a silly but nonetheless indomitably BADASS playlist for when I am feeling silly but nonetheless indomitably BADASS. Only when I actually started to listen to it, I realized that not only was it the most un-badassiest thing I had ever heard, but that IT SOUNDED LIKE SHIT. I MADE SINGULARLY AWESOME SONGS SOUND LIKE SHIT! I am certain there is a rung in hell saved for people like me. K. I'm going to bed now, but I felt the need to confess so I could feel absolved and my dreams would not be haunted by Kid Rock Satan. Thanks for listening, Fathers.