Diary of a Glitter Splashed Britney Lovin' Lesbo

I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else

Name:Miss Fee


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The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Thursday, June 5

I gave birth to a dog last night. It was scratchy and tickly. Actually it was a cross between a baby and a dog. It was beautiful. It was tiny. It was a dream. I tried to call my baby/puppy Barney, after one of my existing pups who is inappropriately named after a big gay purple dinosaur. We didn’t name him. Now I want a baby. I hate babies. Maybe I want a dog. Another one. Dreams are weird. They have you waking up thinking things that you would never normally think and feeling feelings you would never normally feel. The other day I woke up and was convinced I was a murderer who had killed 4 people throughout the course of my life and the police were closing in. I even had my escape route planned because I was so sure that in reality I really was a serial killer. And what about the inappropriate sex dreams? The dreams where you are shagging your friends and it’s so real that you wake up blushing and have seen such intimate knowledge of your mate’s arsehole, for example, that you are unable to look at them over a pint and a pie then next time you see them. It’s even worse when it’s your friend’s girlfriend that you dream about. You are sucking her toes and watching her face when she comes and for days after you are all guilty, as though you planned those dreams or as though you actually did munch on her juicy big toe and watch her pleasure herself with a door stop. I wonder how much bearing this type of dream has on reality. I think dreams are forbidden thoughts. They open you up (often literally) to new possibilities and thoughts you would never dare entertain in reality. I think its people minds being well smart and making you belief and do things that you couldn’t even comprehend doing in your regular lifetime. Fair enough because if dreams were about real life then I should never want to sleep for fear of boring myself to death. With sleep, you gotta have something to look forward to, some misadventures to have you waking in a stir. One time I had the horniest dream about me and two of my poof friends and woke up in a sweat thinking I was bi and would from now on have to touch dick. Generally I always dream about the people that I would never ever dream of slipping a digit. Then suddenly I find myself in a space suit with a clown wig on fisting the cross-eyed skinny bird from the bus. I love dreams. And more so I especially loved the dream I had two nights ago about my Lil Red and I, new possibilities were definitely opened up and she will be having sweet dreams tonight.

And so I go to try and erase the thought of me mothering anything that’s alive and ponder why life is so cruel as to give me such large hair on such a beautiful day.

PS Is it just me or are/were Steps completely fabulous? Actually, don’t answer that.