Dreamer of dreams she’s the one who believes in art after death above all the rest,
no rest for the wicked ain’t no time for sleep, got letters to smell, got secrets to keep.
By day a dreamer, by night a knight, warrior or beer and goddess of fight.
Abstract thinker smearing soul on the wall, heavy drinker another brick in it all.
Holes to feel whole and colour to reveal the truth on the inside and how she may feel.
The moods of her current reflect on the moon and reveal to her that, there is no room, for fusing and fighting my friends.
She dances on air and breathes in the grass but don’t be mistaken she’s nothing but class, with pinky held high and a smile on her face wherever she roams she leaves her trace.

So i came back from Las Vegas yesterday and went to a surprise party for my boyfriend’s friend.

We were both really tired and didn’t feel like going anywhere but he needed to go to give another friend money he owed. We figured we’d go there for a half n hour or so, have a few drinks and leave early.
That didn’t end up happening.

Somehow we managed to drink more than half of a 60 of tequila between the two of us (minus a few shots i was giving people) and at one point i whipped out the prostitute cards that i collected from people who were handing them out on the sidewalks of the Las Vegas strip and was showing everyone. (I collected them for an art project). Apparently a guy at the party traded me a condom for one of them.

Welcome home.