I haven't written a blog in ages but I just love this topic from @missy and @rambo.. so how it works, I will start a story and you will collaborate on it in the comments and then WE will have a story. It might not be any good, I've just had my wisdom's out and I look like a little chipmunk and I'm on quite a few pain killers it feels like I'm having an eyes open-nap at my computer.
She had always been inexplicably drawn to things. Having one was never enough, the same could be said for how she dealt with people. It was a kind of twisted perspective of the world. Her objects held all the wonder of a person and her people, dispensable like trophies that had lost their shine. It was almost impossible to navigate her house, piles of old slips, movie tickets from dates with men who had long gone took up every surface. she could never bare to throw any of these away for fear that she would be throwing away a vital memory and it would be lost forever. She strung her men along the same way as a collector, knowing full well that she could never commit to any of them...
AND GO. :)
(In other news, I made my hair pink this weekend, I had a dream on Friday night that I had pink hair and I was so happy that on Saturday morning I dyed it to match my dreams.)
