hello, i’m lexi -
i don’t really know myself at all. i’m shit at explaining myself, and even shitter at explaining my feelings. i’ve been called heartless, a level-70 demon who stole who steals souls on occasion, a liar. i don’t know who i am, and because of that i spend my days in an anxious haze, craving something that i’m not even sure exists. i’m apathetic towards everything, and i’m positive that it’s my fatal flaw. the only reason i need someone is because i’ve convinced myself i don’t need anyone, but i’m pretty sure i’m not worth your time.
i drink too much tea, eat too much grape fruit, watch people on the subway, spend hours at thrifts stores and small cafes. being alone and writing is my favorite thing to do. i don’t really like food, i have a horrible, morbid sense of humor, really really really large dimples, the ability to contort my face into extremely unattractive expressions. i live for art, typography is my religion and i forever pledge to read the printed word. i generally always have black ink on my hands or some part of my body.
take a peek,
into my head by looking at my pointless ramblings that hopefully in ten years i’ll be able to laugh about.