MisconstruedCarousel

Eerily enough, I have come to the conclusion that I was born horrendously juxtaposed because I think like a fifty year old man but act like I'm seven. I'm the romantic, pragmatic, blunt, spaced-out, polite, outgoing, emotional, cliched, obsessive, disenchanted, idiot-savant, perfectionist, obscene, spiritualist anarchist maverick that's close-sighted but much too open minded, all with an offcolor sense of humor and a garishly bipolar dispostion to back it. I believe in reading your dreams and talking to inanimate objects and laughing even when its innapproprite and that age is just a number and that there is such a thing as being fashionably late. The mind is enticing and is just as worthless as it is beautiful. I find that I will make up the world of good things about people just so I am comfortable enough to count myself among them. I think, and I think too much and not enough and never before I open my mouth. I usually look like I just stumbled out of a car accident, and am always just as disoriented and wide-eyed. I am cunning and manipulative and defensless and I intensely dislike it when things change for the worse. I view all of my bad experiences as epic party jokes and I sincerely believe, for some odd reason and perhaps inadvertently, that I should give much more than I can take. Forever, with its continuity, seems to fickle for my taste, ironically enough, and surely can't handle my lurid frenzies or fantasies. I don't have secrets because I laugh at myself too often and too loudly. I am enamored by your psyche and am encumbered by mine, and am far too afraid to look in the mirror for fear of what may look back at me. I have faith in the fact that honesty, after brutalizing us, usually goes its way and leaves us far better off. I'm nomadic and miserable at correspondance but refuse to say goodbye. I pace and I talk to myself and I'm an insomniac and I play hopscotch and I count stars and will probably not hesitate to buy a nudie mag. I love how cigarettes smell and I would probably drink coffee and smile at you and listen to you talk about everything and nothing all at once and all day (and nod, gasp, sigh and cry, all in the right places), if you would only let me.

Current Residence: Paris, France
deviantWEAR sizing preference: snug
Favourite genre of music: honest
Favourite photographer: Sarah Moon
Favourite style of art: outlandish
Operating System: windows 7
MP3 player of choice: IPod
Shell of choice: cracked-open
Wallpaper of choice: fantastical
Skin of choice: sun-kissed
Favourite cartoon character: Duo Maxwell
Personal Quote: The love we give away is the only love we keep