horrorvaccuihorrorvaccuihorrorvaccui
I started this collection of sorts a few months back. Slithering through entry to entry, I found that with each new cluster of information I surmised to drudgingly slather onto the page for other people’s enjoyment, I felt more hollow about the state of my little curio cabinet of a blog. Although every individual character had been typed out by my scarred dumpy fingers, gazed upon by accepting auburn orbs, and relinquished to the winding, loud humming expanse known as the internet, I still felt as if what I was pouring into the soup-bowl of life didn’t nearly have the strength I wanted it to. Rather it was like a purely superficial color of paint. Every word was the wrong shade of sepia plastered half assed, a russet so off-hue that it didn’t matter how colorblind a person was, they could’ve tasted that it was wrong just by listening to the tedious static bounce off of the revolting lack of texture. A painting so ugly it would have been better off hung in a gallery as a still-blank canvas, with all of her purity intact. An ugly so disgusting that even the romanticism corresponding to individuality is torn to ribbons, a shattering dust covered window, cliché even in its interest, and bad news no matter how it’s viewed.
I tried to toss the whole canvas into a wire waste basket. When it didn’t fit I tossed it into a mold ridden dumpster. Then I decided to set the thing on fire. There is probably no better way to keep homeless winos and pungent bums warm for the winter months. Might as well make use of manure and plant a garden with a ton of shit. This time, inspiration from a certain little notebook toting bird and her horror vacui has made me decide to make some rules. Simple, easy on the eyes, logical, but for anyone who reads this they will remain a secret until a later date.
You make me smile <3
