afternoon tea and toast

I could complain for paragraphs about my week, but what's the use? I will just simply say that once March arrives I will be quite pleased.

I never ramble much when I write but, I'm having one of 'those days'. Ceremonal things make me sick. Conventional things make me even more sick. vital things in my life don't seem to matter as much anymore as the things that will vanish in the matter of weeks. Again. My favourite thing is officially intangible. passion isn't something that my body can feel anymore, not to be overly critical of my feelings on life, but the way I see it is artistry in the fashion of being cynical is my area of expertise. tradition comes on a daily basis for me, I no longer have a 'day to day routine' I only have traditions. psychoanalist, Simple as that. What to do with my life, although phsyciatry would be considerable. Expression, personality, inspiration. I have had each one of these this year. Horray. I officially have reached the groomed/ polished appearance that I've been searching for. 4 years. My signature scent now consists of juicy couture perfume, pumpkin spice bedroom spray and pomegrante body wash. Angel status. My five senses aren't five senses anymore.. But four. Goodbye perfect vision. I now communicate with confidence, my alibi: speech in world lit on greek tragedy. The whole class clapped for just me and no one else. Perfect score. I'm detoxing, not that I need to. I just was watching the rain today and it struck the urge. I can't classify myself, there wouldn't really be a purpose though. Why can't I vanish for 3 weeks? I will be a manager soon. Phenominal.