Hmmm? Oh! Mmmmmmmmmmm.
She can't remember the lady's name, but somebody told Darla long ago to write down her thoughts so she could close the book on them before they took root in her ticker. So, here's what Darla wrote today:
I was born a stubborn old fool. Ruled by my brain and allowed the heart to wither. To love is to show the world my hole-riddled bloomers! I am fixed (obsessively so) in my ideas and there is only My Way or the opposite of that which is I don't know what but it fucking scares me. I search for community and when I find it, I kick the whole damn town to the curb, never to associate with them again. How do you like that? I start and never stop until I discard a project and begin again. I have a lot of scraps! The lemniscate is my sign that I've gone 'round the bend on many a wrong turn. I'm far from ready to write 'The End' but boy do I need a better fitting outline ASAP. And yes, I fall quickly in-and-out-of-touch, love. It's how I'm able to create all this nonsense. I am definitely getting more savvy at spotting a bargain, though. Intuition led me to my broken keyboard. He's never going to get fixed but I can hot glue glitter and ribbons and stars to his ass and stick him up on the wall next to my Victorian hair wreath.
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