Fashion, passion, murder...................

This is one of my manly hands. These are the boots to stomp your face. These jeans are way too big or I lost weight. I'm wearing grandma underwear but you can't see them. I'm in the bathroom as usual, hiding from everything non sexual or boring. I'm wondering about M, what the hell she's doing, pondering a few of her theories. I'm very sleepy and a little bit (green) high still. I've been an imperfect worker this week, but there's always this moment perfectly ripe for change. Last night practice was okay. I was exhuasted and increasingly drunk and the boys seemed about to get into a fight over various things that I stayed out of including the fact that I couldn't hear shit because I didn't care I didn't really want to be heard. Or hear myself. But I sounded like Gwen Stef to myself and I don't think that's good but I hoped anyone else hearing might think it was cute if nothing else, and not horrible, but other people in that studio who hear say they like it. I also realized yesterday that it makes total sense that I wouldn't be an exciting performer since I'm very outwardly calm and deadpan as a rule so why would it change in front of bigger numbers of people? Plus the boys are the same way, so maybe it's fine that's just how we are and the intensity just has to come through the music rather than costumes or dances, or whatever gets people's attention. The show. Well, that's enough for now, I want to see what MK just wrote to me.