Weird shit happens to me. I mean, not bizarre stuff, but weird shit that makes me stop and think, really?? That really just happened to me? WTF. My BF thinks it's because I am scared of my artistic/creative power so I subconsciously create weirdness in my life instead, thus forcing me to focus on these oddities instead of putting energy into art.
So.
This will be my way for chronicling my immeasurably fascinating dysfunctions (yes, being incredibly sarcastic), neuroses, emotions, inner children (yes, plural), moments of shame and doubt, projection, self-loathing, misanthropy, and completely normal insanity, because the only difference between me and the rest of the population is that I acknowledge this knack for inviting weirdness and psychosis into my life and they're all in mind-numbing denial.
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