Very often I read the newspapers. And then you vibrate on with scriblings about people who have committed the ‘perfect crime’. Costly reading food, that. You just have to forgive me, every now and then life passes me by a bit boring and predictable.
Deep inside me a rock chick has been lost. Life is sometimes a bit stale when you only read about the excesses of those improperly boring environmental and animal activists. Maybe it was adulthood that slowly took over my life.
Thus I vibrate on stories about unfortunate encounters with UFOs, half-failed attempts to get rich quickly and those shabbily and vain intellectuals who at all costs leave gross omissions in their tracks.
Maybe it’s an idea to set up a personal scrapbook with it, which I can use to tire my visitors with.
Just because a person must have something to keep dreaming about.
I often fantasize that I virtually scam people by millions of Bitcoins by promising them golden mountains in half-heartedly set up practice as ‘people guru’. But sadly, there appear to be so many of them already.
Anyways, when despair is near, I and my imaginary boyfriend can still entrench ourselves in a number of luxurious hotels and keep calling for Room Service. To leave afterwards, without paying…