See Virago

recovering the satellites

External Services:
  • sighingpixie@livejournal.com
  • CalledCal
We do not rid ourselves of these things
even when we are cured of personal silence
when for no reason one morning
we begin to hear the noise of the world again.
- Carolyn Forche, "City Walk-Up, Winter 1969"

These are always the things everybody hates, right? Nobody likes these games. Or everyone does. Talking about themselves, I mean. That's why there are blogs. I guess I'm no different. I went to college 2000+ miles away from where I came from for a reason. I go to an all womyn's college in California, because sometimes, you have to go the farthest away you can get. I want a book. Not one to read or one to fill up, but one I made. That everyone can read. I don't listen to good music, but the music I do listen to, I do constantly and consistantly. Sometimes I want to be a drag king. Sometimes I want to have long hair. Sometimes I want boots. Sometimes I want birkenstocks. I love Get Fuzzy and cats and dogs and horses. I've been told I'm an introvert, quasi-delusional, minorly psychotic, minorly psychic, a gentle-dreamer-lover, kinky, edgy but cute, and really, really intense. I find that I'm very much a Taurus and don't get along too well with other Tauruses (save for my brother). I like Virgos as a rule. I draw doodles for characters I'm writing about. Or screenplays. Or something. I struggle with politics. I struggle with identity. I love comic books and homemade Chex Mix I really do want you to know what or who I am, but this seems too long anyway. So. I'm queer. I'm a student. I'm young. I write. I'm a woman. I'm a chola. Most of the time, I'm very angry. But catch me at the right moment and I'll be loyal to you forever.

i've got love and anger they come as a pair you may take your chances but buyer beware and i won't make you feel bad if i show you that this big ball of sad isn't worth even filling with air

Does any of this say anything?