The journal on this site has MOVED to an even uglier site. Am too lazy to create links and deal with formatting. The other site, if you're actually interested, will be updated much more frequently (practically every day). The URL, however, will not be given out freely as I have decided to be much more thoughtful about who I allow into the inner sanctums of my neurotic soul. Stuy alums, however, will always have free access and if you are actually interested, e-mail me and I will give you the URL. Otherwise, I don't know how long it will take for me to figure out what is the best protocol with which to inform people of this new state of affairs. Cheers. (It is incredible how much uglier the new site is. I didn't think it was possible to get more low-tech than this. Well, book, cover, etc.)
Delusions of Grandeur
Fashion Designer/Haute couture slut/Slave at DKNY this summer. I love the female body. Hmm, I wonder why?
Writer? Acclaim? Renown? Pulitzer? Don't wish to be a Danielle-Steele-prolific-trash-writing-freak...altho...Harlequin Romance novelist has this certain self-defeating appeal to it.
I am Portishead.
Money. Lots and lots of it. Enough to pay for clothes and drugs...the staples of existence.
Integrity. Not integrity as in honesty. Integrity as in an entire lack of contradiction in my belief system and the way I live. Ayn Rand and *I was the use and meaning, I.*
Eyes Wide Shut Orgies complemented by acid, coke, and intelligent conversation.
To be able to sleep around (and in various locations). But certain things prevent me from doing so. I'm repressed and like...I have problems with the concept/meaning and misunderstanding of love and vulnerability.
To be like Mr. Farbstein, h.s. psych teacher who's brilliance is like the light of a thousand suns.
Anorexic or bulimic. I wish to be 100 lbs...yes...perpetuate the silent demon that plagues the rich, white girls of America...land of the free, home of the brave.
Next Dalai Lama.
Name: Nancy
Age: 19
Profession: College Student
I believe this site deserves an explanation. It comes as a shock to even myself, seeing as I am computer illiterate. As an elitist, intellect slut, one of the reasons I began this website was so that other elitist, intellect sluts could gather here and be at peace amongst their kin. Therefore, if you do not appreciate this site for the wonder that it is, you are A) stupid and B) can never achieve the status of "Slut".
Beguiling point of interest: the little man rolling the rock is Sisyphus, doomed to eternally roll a boulder up a hill. It is A) my concise way of attributing a futility to all things humans undertake, myself included, in a single animated image...B) and yet, I believe too, as Camus did, that "the struggle towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart"...and C) a tribute to another the bomb teacher, Mr. Grossman, who I must write to once I prevail over the quagmire of my life, Procrastination.
