I’ve Been Locked Inside Your ♥ Shaped Box


Instead of listing boring stats I’m going to ramble about myself for a few minutes in an attempt to uncover anything interesting… if you have any questions you would like answered please feel free to leave those in the comments oh my little bity brothers and sissies. (That is what such functions are for, and we always promote function over form!) I’m Mandy, the thoughts you see scattered randomly before you are mine. Be forewarned, I live in a terrible, awful, lame capitalist society, I am insignificant. Like all humans I will die… & I swear I have more memories of dreams than of actual events. Maybe life is inverted and we only truly live in our dreams. Who knows and who am I to ask these things? I am randomly… yours. That’s who I’m. Don’t bother deciphering, some people were not meant to be saved. Anyway, I believe you came here to learn something about yours truly. Let’s see what comes out of the box today…

[Saturday 8 November 2008]

I walked in the horrible weather to after school tutorials. I went to the high school and our group met on campus. I made the walk twice a week. We made sushi a few times. Curtis even showed up once in a while, he was so weird. Once he hung, half naked out a dorm room window to talk to three girls that giggled above. That was the first summer I was roommates with Jessica. Her twin was next door… Anyway, I was walking along Hudson Road.  It was half raining outside with a completely grey sky. I had a portable CD player so I was listening to Nirvana.

Something In The Way was playing on repeat as I made my way through wet grass. That day I wondered what it would be like to be homeless and sleep under a bridge. My mom once brought home this guy she met in the psych ward. He had tattoos all over his body including his head. Phillip was a heroine addict and he was also a homosexual. Mom let him live with us for a while, he told us he was a hundred-year-old gypsy. You meet the strangest people when your parents are drug dealers.

That was how I made most of my friends. I hope that if any of them ever read this or anything I’ve put out on the good old internet that they be merciful and that they long to relive those golden days as I do. I can’t tell you how well I feel basking in the glow of our childhood memories. Why do you think I even write such things? Or at all? I am trying, trying ever-long my friends to save us from this thing called time. Trying to preserve this life as it was and always shall be in my past-sighted eyes.

Maybe someday I will make a movie that you will see. Even if you never knew it was my visions of you that inspired all I create… I would be happy knowing you had a fleeting chance at understanding how your loss tormented me. You and all my friends. All those lost little girls. How much did you all tell me in confidence? I never told. At least I never told that it was you. Your stories haunt me. You children with dull muted faces. Oh, I wish I could remember your laugh. I can hear it now, just barely though, and it fades fast…

[for your voyeuristic pleasure]

**videos coming soon**


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