indie-brokenarm:

I live in an expansive metropolis full of oppurtunies. I’m am girlish, vibrant, disarmingly charming. I get depressed when I have nothing to do, it makes me feel worthless. I spend my time on counches, beds, chairs, rugs, floors. In concert halls, performance spaces, stages, galleries. I am slender, chic, my style perfectly balances irony and apathy with money. I have a lot of friends who I enjoy as entertainment. I don’t get too attached or involved with how they see me, or upset about our drifting intimacy, our inconsistent closeness, I know life can’t always be passionate. I don’t party too much or do drugs. I don’t like to perform that way. I get forgotten. When I say something smart I get reposted. I don’t have a studio, people don’t put me in shows. I don’t make my self known to them. I think I influence people without trying. I meander. I go out drinking and order cosmos and vodka martinis. Skinny drinks or drinks that make me feel fabulous and make bartenders feel famous and I tell everyone else to order cocktails and they tell me to do so too. I am bored. I am inspired on my own. I enjoy my own company. I have taken to sitting outside for no reason, creating plans to neglect. Reordering my head on park benches. I message people. I live online and love it. Online I’m a star. I make art that makes me cry and I don’t show it to anyone. I don’t comment. I drop out and reenrol. I make do. I can handle anything in enlightened moods. I message people in enlightened moods. It is easy to impress, entertain, orchestrate and follow through. I have big things coming. I am one to watch