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yeah, i had an idea about writing of the evolution of pointed-toe shoes, and then about the weird waist purses women used to carry (particularly nannies and nurses; the french name escapes me because i'm two bottles of wine and a cavs game deep) and how that evolved into fanny packs, and then prob something else... i'm getting around that. i just, have had a trouble lately of feeling imbued with any particular purpose in life and this feels like a great reset button.
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fuck i'm frustrated, freaking out something fierce, would you help me? i'm hungry and i stuffer and i startle, i struggle and i stammer til i'm up to my ears in miserable quote unquote "art"
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