slightgeist

I've neglected this space. Maybe because I've been outrageously over-occupied and in a state of perpetual recovery. I can't remember where my life was where I left off; lately, I haven't been able to keep track of my life from the night before. Sex still seems to play a prominent role in my day-to-day experience, as does running, as does work, as does the upkeep of my body. I'm still part-timing as a fetish girl. I'm doing a little more part-time work as a model. I hate the word model. I'm more of a mannequin. A pale, still mannequin.

And.

I've been fraternizing with graphic designers, film editors, and writers, who continue to rock my world with their creative brains. I've been dating boys and girls, seemingly interchangeably. I've enjoyed more than my fair share of oral sex and I'm starting to develop a guilt complex. And thanks to two drunken and exceptionally hedonistic nights, there's a shitload of highly incriminating photographs of yours truly engaging in some highly questionable activity.

This is what you generally aim to avoid if you want to be a professor when you grow up, like me. But then, I'm beginning to think I make a better deviant than a role model.