I Obsess You

Please excuse my narcism. I like to relish in it.

I tend to go through phases of addictions, obsessions and unhealthy attention seeking deviant mannerisms. When I get into these moods where I become a single-minded psychopath, I can go for days without eating, talking or even realizing that I’m still on planet earth. My mother says she’s never seen anything like it before.

Writing: my original love. When I was younger, I bought ten notebooks and began writing ridiculous, juvenile stories of stupid teenagers having as much sex as possible and disgustingly violent scenes from watching American Psycho too many times. As of now, I have over twenty three hundred page notebooks filled with stories, rants, poems, hit lists and death threats. I still have to write everything out in a notebook (I don’t use loose leaf paper) before I type it up. I don’t know if this is a bad habit but I can’t seem to engage in a creative outpouring without smelling the lined paper first.

Drawing: this was the worse one. I didn’t eat for five days except for one square piece of dry bread because I was so obsessed with copying anime drawings from my brother’s comic books that nothing else seemed to be important. I was out of my fucking mind. However, I was proud of all the drawings I accomplished although my boyfriend at the time didn’t appreciate my disappearing ass (I never lose my boobs though O_o)

Aesop Rock: I hated his voice when I first listened to him and I couldn’t understand a damn word he was saying. This all changed when I heard his voice in ‘No Regrets’ (Lucy was seven and wore a head of blue barrettes/city born into this world with no knowledge and no regrets). And then I became obsessed with him when I heard that sick ass instrumental beat for ‘Forest Crunk,’ which was followed by this:
Sign of the swine of the swarm
when a king is a whore
who complies and conforms
miles outside of the eye of the storm
with a siphon to lure out a prize and award
while avoiding the vile and bazaar
that is violence and war
true blue triumph is more!
Excuse me? How the hell do you come up with shit like that? You can’t. That’s raw. If you don’t know who I’m talking about…google him, my friend.

Sex: Ah…I haven’t really grown past this little antic. Little Miss Freak is what they call me!

Dancing: I always wanted to be a prima ballerina but the development of large breasts and hips pushed me off my naive road (but I have a six pack and monster calve muscles!) Whatever. I used to dance six times a week, three hours a day, five hours on Saturday, six on Sunday. I have horribly ugly feet because I didn’t mind sacrificing for my art and what did it get me? A nice body, yes, but as for my goals, I didn’t meet them, which is mainly my fault. However, I have made a new aspiration to audition for So You Think You Can Dance next year so please get your cell phones ready to vote for AmoreMe. I’ll be the next Sabra without the cute afro.

I stopped with the narration for a bit because I feel like who I actually am (besides my obvious sexual escapades) hasn’t been expressed…as well as I would like it. Being anonymous allows for me to write with a brutal, vulgar and angry honesty that I couldn’t express with my name for fear of judgement and my own self-examination (I’ll admit it). I couldn’t deal with that. You are allowed to judge me now though.