What do you take me for?

I’m thinking of getting a Lomo just to piss Pancho off. Haha, I kid. (Not so much, actually, no.)

It’s actually to get all artsy-fartsy emo on all you people, taking pictures of girls leaning against brick walls with their hair floating in all sorts of directions. I could take a picture of a little boy pulling weeds from the ground, or a mother laughing to herself while washing dishes in the kitchen. And I’m sure I’ll be taking pictures of myself. Oh you just wait. Bony shoulders, and arches of feet, the point where my shorts get cut off, the plumpest part of my mouth. Oh just you wait.

A part of me thinks this is simply borne out of my natural inclination to detest high-res, especially if lenses are turned towards me. I don’t do no photoshop, you’ll all see the other side of the world through my pores.

I look better when it’s dark. When I’m standing underneath a lamppost at 2:30 in the morning. When I’m riding shotgun at the break of dawn, illuminated only by the smattering of light from open girlie bars. When I stumble into the bathroom with my eyes closed. When it’s time for bed and looking up at the ceiling already feels like you’ve fallen asleep.

Or I look better when it’s hazy. I think people are beautiful when they’re hazy. I have not worn my glasses for six weeks.

I think I’ll be prettier if everyone was myopic and I wore summer dresses all the damn time.