Mistakes. A slip of tongue. A sigh too much or a sigh too little. An overused underused hair partition. You stammer and sink into your own world. A lack of oxygen, maybe. Or just a discombobulation of misused words and phrases that always always presents itself in the undertow. Or as I like to call it, The I Don’t Know.
Short Strings of Nothings
About
Inane ramblings of an emotionally underdeveloped 20-yr old queer cat with a penchant for sleeplessness and dirty socks.
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Tuesday, September 29, 2009
