dreaamcaught
i always hear the same story about the woman, her dog, and the microwave. she has this little hideous poodle, probably died pink hair and it's wearing a glittered collar. the details are my own welcomed addition. she puts it in there to dry her little puppy off after its bath. bubbling. screeching doggy. blisters. dead.
oh there are so many ways to same costume. one must often say it in it's normal way: cos-tume, but if one wishes to elaborate a simple cos-thume is a handy start. costume is a word that is seldom used unfortunately and it is a sad fact for maya.
i saw it on my table. the heart. the record player. my mirror. the cocaine. the perfume. and i wondered: which of these do i need? i certainly thought, i need that heart, but maybe that's all the same and I'm good without it. the mirror and cocaine are certainly the same so i either need them both or need them not. the music. ah yes, the music. that i thought, i need.