Oh, oh darlin', who needs love?

Definitely not me. At least, not unless it's on an equal par and both are equally sunk into the mushy depths of romantic quagmire that chokes you with its sickly sweet slime.

I will probably use this blog for expounding my emotions and consequently it will be cathartic but ultimately useless. Expect lots of moaning, meandering, poetry, senseless repetition and pretension. I only write when I am in the doldrums, consequently when I'm happy don't expect too many postings.

Apparently there is a greek myth of a prophetess called Sibyl. She asked for the gift of immortality, but forgot to twin it with asking for the gift of eternal youth. She wouldn't have sex, so the god Apollo caused her body to age and wizen until it was so tiny it could only fit inside a jar.

He stripped everything away until all that was left was a strand of time connecting her dull existence to the future, roping round about the universe. You stripped all my defences away, all those barricades, until all that was left was a tiny pile of dust. But it wasn't lovely enough to keep, because after all, dust is boring and can be found everywhere. So you blew it away and it roams, undefended. And it probably doesn't need you anymore but wanting you appears to mould it together.

I would hate to be someone who wears a lot of knit pastels. They're invariably flabby and think the pretty colours distract from their unseemly flesh. Not that I am not fat. I don't think anyone is going to think I am not fat if I dress in pastels though. I don't disillusion myself that my flab will suddenly disappear if covered by a cheeky knit print.

I should cease to care about weight and appearance, but its all everyone else cares about. Really, it shouldn't matter, but it does. It is so unbelievably trivial that we judge; for all I know, girls wearing pastels could be forthright and outgoing. I am reluctant to believe this when surrounded by their wishy washy shades of crap.

So at least I'm not a girl that wears pastel. This is my positive thought of the day.